#i come back 2 years later and see that no one has matured past the need for their fav book to be adapated ‘perfectly’ (the way THEY want!)

[moonssugar]

one thing about his dark materials fans is that they will never be satisfied

[igotanidea]

Family unity: Dick Grayson x reader (pt 1)

Request: Damian's fullblood older sister age 19 and Dick's ex coming to live with Bruce and Damian. She gets shocked about seeing Dick and it's obvious they both still have feelings for each other. But upon realising that she had a romantic history with Dick, Bruce and Dami goes into full protective mode.

A/N: this is part 1, with part 2 coming, cause I wanted to really dive into that "protecive mode" without writing a story of 20 pages :D

***

“So this place is like a hellhole?” she asked, watching Gotham’s landscape unveil from behind the windows of Bruce's limo.

“Indeed. But in time I think you might find some charm to it.”

“Charm? Damian, please, don’t joke like that.” Y/N Al-Ghul Wayne scoffed at her younger brother. Don’t you remember the surroundings of the league of assassins? That had a charm to it. And this place –“

“I’ve been here for almost two years, sister. I believe I may have a better background to claim Gotham has a charm too.”

“You have changed, little brother, haven’t you?” the girl raised an eyebrow at him, only earning a boyish smile in response. No matter how much Damian was trying to hide it, there was something softer about him. And something more mature and human in respect of his behaviour.  And there was no chance in the world that this switch wouldn’t move something in her older sister’s heart.

Using the moment of Damian’s complacency she leaned forward on her seat and ruffled his hair playfully. Almost like back in time in Eth Alth'eban. They may have been raised by Thalia and Ra’s to be living weapons, but aside from all that, the same blood running in their veins was insurmountable. Both Damian and Y/N were similar on so many levels and trusted only each other when it came to showing that more human face.

Well.

Almost.

In Damian’s case that has clearly changed during the few months of their father’s upbringing.

And in her case…

There was one person she trusted back in the days. The boy she liked. Maybe even more. But it backfired on her, leaving her with a very painful lesson that people come and go, feelings flee and you end up getting hurt. After two years of losing him, she was still careful with her heart and even more careful with letting down her walls.  

“Y/N…” Damian asked softly, seeing her blurry eyes fixed on the horizon as they turned and got on the driveway to the manor. “What are you thinking about…?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. There was truly no way to burden Damian with her past. Not when he was clearly starting to open up to the world.

“Hey…” the younger boy slowly reached for his sister’s hand. “You’re my sister. I care.”

“I know, Dami. I know.” She squeezed his fingers and sent a soft smile. “I know and I got a feeling it might be handy if I am to stay here.”

“My katana is still sharp.” Damian smirked, but underneath that teasing face expression she could see obvious concern for her well-being.

“Are you fighting skills?”

“Duh! Fighting room is the first place I am going to show you.”

‘Can’t wait for that.”

Before she could add anything else the car pulled off signalling that they’ve reached their destination. Second later, the door opened and Y/N was greeted with the sight of the Wayne Manor.

“That’s it?” she tilted head, taking in the magnificent building with its surroundings. “Thought it was bigger.”

“I know. At first I was disappointed too. Still am. But you’ll get used to the poor housing conditions. Oh, there’s father… Hello father.”

Bruce was already descending the stairs to greet both his real kids home.

“Y/N.”

“Father.”

“Welcome to Gotham.”

“Such generosity of you to let me crash here.”

“Hm.” Bruce grunted. This exchange was awkward to say the least and not the way he thought it would come. Perhaps he should have expected that being raised by her mother would not exactly make Y/N open and trusting, let alone a chatterbox. If anything, she was keeping her emotions and her words close to her chest, examining the surroundings as if internally coming up with contingency plans.

Just like Damian when he first came to Gotham.

Just like Bruce himself.

The fact that she was his daughter was undeniable, after all the blood does not lie.

And that was why Bruce had to take a different approach to her.

“Let me help you with that.” He reached for her backpack, quite small considering the fact she was keeping most of her belongings there. Not much fancy clothes, make up stuff or anything you might expect of a 19 year-old – woman.

“No need. I’ll handle it.” Y/N effortlessly swung the bag over her arm. “Shall we?” Her watchful gaze moved between Bruce – a man who helped bring her to life and yet, who she did not know – and Damian – who was standing idly by. “I mean – we are going inside, aren’t we?”

“Hm.” Bruce grunted again, only adding fire to Y/N’s assumption that living here would be a huge challenge, and slowly led her towards the manor door.

***

“Miss Y/N. A pleasure to meet you. I am Alfred. The butler.”

“Pennyworth?” she made sure, connecting the dots in her head, examining the older man from head to toe.

“Yes. And you, Miss, are truly a spitting image of your father and brother. I suppose everyone within the Wayne blood range has an utterly terrific tendency to use last names instead of the first…”

“Y/n?!”

The exchange between the girl and Alfred was abruptly interrupted upon the appearance of a young man with just a towel around his waist, bare chest and wet hair, all of the above indicating that he has just finished taking a shower.

“Master Dick, how many times do I have to tell you to not wet the floor?”

“Grayson!” Damian hissed, taking quite a different approach to his older brother’s attire. “Dress up! We got a woman in the house and you will not deprive her with your nakedness.”

The situation was already hilarious but 12 year old Damian talking about the depravity of his 19 year old sister only added to the grotesqueness.

And then Y/N finally realised what both Damian and Alfred said.

Master Dick.

Grayson.

And that half-naked man, leaving water marks on the floor, knew her name!

Shit.

No.

***

“What was that?” Damian asked half an hour later, while he and Y/N were in her room, having stopped her from spinning on her feet, running out the door and going back to League of Assassins even if she had to crawl there for a month. “Since when do you run Y/N? That’s disappointing.”

“You are not going anywhere.” The door opened and Bruce walked inside.

“Hm.” She only muttered turning towards the window with her back to him. Bruce’s blood for crying out loud. She might as well stay in this position for the hours, days and weeks to come, but upon looking down she noticed that fuckingly annoying Dick Grayson looking up, right at her window, now fully dressed, with a  smirk and  carelessly waving at her.  “I’m going back home.”

“You are violating my privacy.” She hissed.

“Did you have much of that while living with your mother?”

“You will not speak about my mother.” The girl looked at him with anger and need for revenge in her eyes “You didn’t care much about her when you banged her and left with a kid, did you? And then, you did not care much about me, when while I was 7 you showed up to have another steamy banging with her, did you?”

“Y/n.” Bruce muttered with a hint of warning

“Y/n…” Damian muttered at the same time, having forgotten how straight-forward and oblivious to societal norms his sister could be. And listening to their parents’ turbulent history in Y/N’s words wasn’t pleasant for the younger one either.

“Shit. Sorry, Dami. Didn’t mean to bring that out, it’s just-“ she clenched her fists.

“Just what?”

“Damian, please leave me alone with Y/N for a moment will you?” Bruce turned to his son. Whatever was eating up the girl it was quite obvious that a kid, that Damian still was, should not listen to it. If his daughter was having something against him, Bruce was not going to drag the entire family into the fight.

“No.”

“Damian.”

“I am not leaving her alone with you, father.”

“But-“

Damian frowned, getting up and walking towards his sister, taking place right next to her in a form of stubbornness and quiet support. Shockingly, those actions made his father both proud and annoyed but it was obvious that a parent stood no chance against the joined forces of his assassins kids.

“Fine.” He grunted. “So you hate me Y/N. You have every right to and –“ in fact, the great Bruce Wayne, the CEO of a company, honorary citizen and benefactor of charity causes had no idea how to talk to a young woman.

“I hate all men…” she muttered, with fists still clenched and jaw tight.

“Hm?”

“I hate-“

“We heard but-“

“What did he do?” Damian cut their word exchange, being faster than his father to caught up on details.

“What?” Bruce looked between their kids with a confused frown.

“He left me…” she whispered, looking at the floor.

“When?”

“Two years ago…”

“What are you two talking about?!” Bruce finally exclaimed, getting two mocking gazes from Y/N and Damian. At this moment neither of them could believe that with such an amount of obliviousness their father claimed to be the greatest detective in the world. Ignoring him, they continued their conversation.

“How did that even happen?” Damian inquired “How did you meet? When did you meet? Did you – ugh! – did you two--?!”

“You should not be concerned with that—”

Bruce quietly sighed and sat on the nearest chair, almost blending into the wall, figuring out that it was best to gather information by pretending he wasn’t even there in the first place.

“He hurt you, didn’t he?” Damian asked her, but she only fixed her eyes on him with no sign of emotion. “You can’t use that trick on me, sister.”

“I’ve taught you that trick.” She pointed out.

“And since the apprentice has surpassed the master you can’t use that trick on me. He hurt you.”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“No one will be killing anyone here.” Bruce decided this was the time to cut in, before someone got hurt physically. “Did he… um… I assume we’re talking about Dick?” Another batch of condemning looks was enough of an answer “ Did Dick break your heart?”

“Father!”

“That’s it. I’m going home!”

“What did I say this time?!”

“Y/N does not have a heart to break!”

“You have no right to interfere in my life! I barely know you!”

“Well I want to help!”

“Why do you even care?!”

Three Waynes under one rooftop were clearly too many, because their similar characters caused them all to start fighting and yelling at each other, forcing Alfred to walk upstairs, sat each of them in the different corner of the room, threatening with putting all the house duties on them, forcing them to stop the screams and actually start the talk.

***

It's been an hour since Alfred’s intervention and neither of them said a word.

Y/N was mad at the question about her emotions.

Damian was waiting for Y/N’s word to support her against the father.

And Bruce was making plans and schemes on how to best approach his daughter with a belated teenage rebellion going on.

“When Damian left for Gotham…” she finally started, with a voice so quiet it was barely audible in the room. “I wanted to see some of the world too… I packed my bags and just moved.”

“Grandfather couldn’t have been happy about it.”  Damian muttered

“You were always his favourite. After your departure he didn’t pay much attention to me, so –“ she shrugged. “Anyway, I started travelling. And during one of my travels I met Dick Grayson.”

“He was having his self-exploration time at the moment…” Bruce added and Y/N nodded.

“That’s what he said to me too. Not that I asked. Honestly, I never asked him a single thing. He just seems to have that effect on people when…” her voice broke a little and in that short moment of hesitation both Damian and Bruce moved to sit closer to her, leaving their respective corners. “I was 17 and out in the world for the first time. Such a stupid kid…”

“You liked him.” Bruce said softly, knowing he had to thread carefully.

“Too much apparently.” A single tear fell from her eye but instead of getting cold because of that, she felt warmth in the area of her hands. Looking down she realised that both her brother and father were holding them as a form of reassurance she decided to accept. “I knew he was Nightwing. He knew I was trained as an assassin. I even told him we could work together, but – “

“He left.”

“Yes.”

“He came back to Gotham, because of his duties here.”

“Well, I know that now…”

“Y/N.”

“I got closure now, right? He put the duties before whatever stupid thing we had going. You can learn from heartbreaks, right?” she was trying her best to not fall apart, but it was too much.

After all, behind all those layers of indifference, harshness and assassin upbringing she was only a girl whose heart was broken and who never let it in. After Dick abandoned her, she dug her emotions inside, instead deciding on travelling more and forgetting about the incident.

Only now, when she saw him again, after two years, this deeply hidden thorn has pierced the layers of inaccessibility she has built around herself. Bringing out tears.

And that was as surprising to her as it was for Damian and Bruce, who froze at first.

But when Alfred decided to open the door once more, getting alerted by the ominous quietness coming from upstairs, he saw three Waynes on the floor, almost snuggled together (which was the Waynes equivalent of sitting next to each other with Bruce’s arm around Y/N;s shoulder and Damian’s head on her shoulder).

And even though he was as quiet as a mouse, he got three pairs of eyes fixed on him immediately, warning him to not speak a single word about it to anyone.

***

She was just like he remembered.

With fire in her eyes, intelligence on her face and a fighter attitude.

All the traits that made him fall for her.

All the traits that made him stay in love with her.

Little did she know, that when he was waving at her from the driveway, with that teasing smirk and aloof attitude it was not supposed to tease her. It was a desperate attempt at reaching out. A foolish belief they could mend the gap and maybe – maybe …

No.

She was not going to forgive him let alone let him enter her life again.

And the worst part was that he was already in the lost position.

For all his golden boy attitude, all his friendliness and the fact he was Bruce’s first adopted kid and Damian’s favourite brother was nothing in comparison with the fact that with Y/N coming to live in the Manor the roles switched.

Bruce becoming a protective father and Damian turning into a revenge seeking sibling.

It was going to be a hard time for Dick Grayson. 

[musings-of-a-rose]

Hi, just wanted to say that I love your work! Especially with Benny and Frankie so much that I have an idea for Benny! Female reader (not picky about the name) meets Benny at a bar days after she catches her now ex-boyfriend cheating on her and they hook up at his place, but she leaves before he wakes up. She later finds out she's pregnant but doesn't tell anyone who the father is. Months later while still pregnant, her friends convince her to come with them to see a MMA fight and low and behold Benny is there fighting. He doesn't see her at first, but when the fight ends (which he wins) he sees her and she leaves abruptly while hiding her stomach since she's wearing baggy clothing. However, Benny manages to catch up to her, where she reveals the news to him. They then talk some more at her place where he reveals to her that she's been on his mind ever since that night and begins the start of something new.

One Night Can Change Everything

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader 

Word Count: 6400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Rea is a general nickname for a “reader” character that @mermaidxatxheart came up with and I think that’s genius! This is not beta’d.

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❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“Ok, that’s it. I’m making you get out of this bed now,” My best friend Sage declares as she towers over my bed, where I have lived for the past several days. Ever since I caught my boyfriend sleeping with my co-worker. Co-workerS.

Ex-boyfriend now, I suppose. 

I groan, attempting to roll over but Sage grabs my shoulder and flips me back over, digging her fingers lovingly into my skin. “I love you Rea, I do. But you have to get out of this bed. He’s not worth it.”

She’s right. I know she is. But we had been dating for nearly 2 years, mostly. It was on and off, but we had talked about marriage, kids, all of it. I thought he would be my forever but apparently, I was his “for now”. 

Fuck this asshole.

I sit up quickly, nearly colliding with Sage, and yank the covers off me, determination flooding my veins, choking out the hurt. For now, at least. 

“Alright, alright. I’m up.”

Sage points to the bathroom. “First, please take a shower. Then we’re going to Mick’s.” 

I’d almost forgotten about Mick’s, Sage’s favorite bar. Probably because it’s full of rugged, blue-collar men and Sage definitely has a type. Not that I can blame her. 

“Ok, but I’m just going for you. And science.”

Sage snorts. “Sure, Rea. Sure. Don’t forget to shave.”

—--------------

An hour later and I’m walking into Mick’s front door, loud music vibrating through me. It’s busy, but I’ve seen it busier and we manage to snag a couple of stools at the bar. Within 10 minutes, Sage is led to the dance floor by some burly lumberjack, complete with flannel shirt and all. I throw my hand up in the air in a “what about me” motion as she glances behind her, shrugging and gesturing around the room before focusing all of her attention on the flannel clad bear of a man in front of her, who is surprisingly agile. I turn back to the bar, taking my hand off the top of my glass, tossing the last of the liquid down my throat, coughing slightly at the burn. I set my glass down, my finger trailing along the rim, wondering if I should call an Uber or wait for my friend, when a man slides in next to me, flagging down the bartender. 

“5 beers, please.” His voice has a slight drawl to it, his tone warming me all over. 

“Seems a lot for one man.” Where the hell did that courage come from?

The man, clad in a button up light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up that opens to reveal a camo print shirt, turns his head to me and for what feels like days, I’m rendered speechless. This man is gorgeous - a sloping nose,  sandy blonde hair that flips out from behind his backward hat, some patchy facial hair, and the most intensely blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They glance quickly down my body and back up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Ain’t all for me, sweetheart. Got a table full of impatient assholes waiting for a beer.”

I cock my head to the side. “You lose a bet or something?”

The man tips his head back and laughs, his shoulders shaking with it and I feel my body tingle. I could listen to that sound forever. 

“How the hell did you know that?” His smile is wide, all of his attention on me, his eyebrows raised in question.

I shrug. “I’d send the guy who lost a bet to get the first round, at least.”

He chuckles. “Smart girl…I’m Ben. Friends call me Benny.”

I tell him my name. “But my friends call me Rea.”

“I like that. Nice to meet you, Rea.” He sticks his hand out to shake mine, but before I can, 4 beers slide in front of him and he glances down at them, his shoulders dropping ever so slightly. 

Finding courage from somewhere, I lay my hand on his forearm and have to resist squeezing. “You have to go back so soon?”

He smiles again, the skin around his eyes crinkling with it. “Nah, sweetheart. I’ll be right back. Promise me you’ll wait right here?” There go the eyebrows again, pulling together and making him look like a puppy. Fuck I am so screwed.

“I’ll be waiting.”

He hesitates for a brief second before taking my hand and kissing the back of it. “Now that’s something to make a man move fast.” He winks, grabs the four beers, and heads off into the crowd, making his way towards the back of the room. Hate to see him leave, but damn I’m loving watching him go, his 6’3 frame easily visible over the crowd. He drops off the beers somewhere at the back of the room, turning quickly to push his way back through the crowd, his eyes locking on mine and giving me a sly smile. 

“You waited.” He slides back into the barstool next to me as I pull my leg from it, the universal gesture for this is saved.

Fuck his eyes are so blue. “You came back.”

A smile plays at the corner of his lips. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

I look down for a moment, my mind going back to my ex and all of his cheating, making me feel less than. Benny seems to sense something, his large hand hesitating a moment before he gently squeezes my arm. “You ok?”

I shake my head, my eyes locking back on his blues. “Yeah. I’m great now you’re here.”

Benny is easy to talk to, fun, and flirty. He’s in Delta Force, or was, with his actual brother, one of the men that he’d owed a beer to earlier. We talk about everything and anything, Benny eventually pulling me to the dance floor and whisking me about, sometimes dancing and other times being silly and smiling when I laugh. After several songs, we need a break, managing to snag a couple of stools at the bar, sipping on a couple of drinks. 

“So you live local?” He asks me, taking another swig from his beer.

I nod. “Yeah. I don’t typically come here, but my friend Sage dragged me out of the house.”

“Well remind me to thank her. She here?”

“Actually,” I turn and look out at the crowd for several moments, finally seeing her in the back corner, making out with Flannel Bear Man. I chuckle. “Yeah, she’s a little occupied.”

Benny chuckles, taking another swig of his beer, his free hand hesitating a moment before landing on my bare thigh, just above my knee. “Well I can keep you company.” 

His warm hand against my skin has my brain short-circuiting. I can’t think of what to say so I return his question. “Are you local?”

He nods, his thumb slowly rubbing circles across my skin. “Yeah. But some water main or somethin’ broke in my building. They put us all up in hotels until they fix it. Burst a few pipes.”

“Oh no! Is your stuff ok?” I place my hand over his on my leg, giving it a little squeeze and move it further up my thigh, heat immediately rushing to an area not far from where his hand is. 

He clears his throat. “Uh, y-yeah. Well, I had some water damage but didn’t lose anythin’ big. They just have to put down new floors.”

The music volume suddenly goes up by several volumes, turning the place into a mini club. Benny winces and I can see that it triggers him, the loud sounds and people becoming a little much. I lean in closer to his ear, gently rubbing circles into the back of his hand. 

“It’s too fucking loud! Wanna get out of here?” I pull my head back to look at him, our faces only an inch apart. His eyes flit between mine, briefly pausing on my lips.

“If you’re sure, hell yeah.”

I smile and he returns it before I lean back into his ear. “Let me flag my friend down and let her know. Stay right here so I don’t lose you.”

He turns his head, his nose brushing against my cheek. “I’ll be right here.” Hating that I have to move, I gently place his hand on his thigh and give him a wink before turning, scanning the corner where I had last seen Sage. She’s still there, Flannel Bear Man sucking on her neck. I force my way through the crowd and eventually emerge in front of her. Sage’s gaze takes a moment to settle on me.

“Rea! Where’ve you been?” She yells above the music.

I gesture to where I came from. “At the bar. Waiting for you.”

She gasps as Flannel Bear Man starts to bite her skin. “S-sorry, Rea. I-”

I cut her off, not wanting to intrude any longer. “No worries. I’m getting out of here. With a guy. I’ll get an Uber.”

Sage reaches out and grips my wrist, breaking the suction from Flannel Man who only seems to just realize I’m standing here. 

“A guy? You found someone? Do you need condoms?”

“Sage! I have to go!”

“Wait!” She pulls her clutch from somewhere and digs around in it, quickly sliding a few foiled square packages in my hand. “ Remember, it’s just a rebound. Don’t get attached. Have fun and be safe!”

I can’t help the heat in my cheeks, but I tuck the condoms in my bag. “Thanks. I’ll ping you my location.”

Sage releases my wrist and smiles at me before I turn back to Benny, shoving my way through more bodies on the dance floor. I emerge on the other side and see him still sitting where I left him, hat turned backward and looking so fucking hot. 

This is all so unlike me, but I like Benny. Sage’s words echo through my head “it’s just a rebound. Have some fun.”

I walk up to Benny and he turns his head, standing and giving me a wide smile. “Ready to go, sweetheart?”

I nod and he offers me his hand, which I happily accept, his touch warming me all over as he guides us through the crowd and out the front door, the volume immediately decreasing the moment the door closes behind us. 

“Now I can hear myself think!” Benny chuckles as he pulls my hand to his lips, lightly brushing them against my knuckles, his puppy dog eyes on mine. “Did you drive?

“Hhhm? Oh, uh no. Uber.”

Benny nods. “I have my jeep. I can drive us somewhere? Unless you’d feel safer using Uber?”

I study him for a moment, deciding that I trust him. “I love Jeeps.”

He smiles, his grip on my hand tightening slightly as he directs me to the parking lot, chatting a little too fast about his Jeep, like he’s nervous. He helps me into the passenger side, sliding across the hood to make it to the driver’s side quicker, smiling at my laugh. He starts the Jeep and gets the ac started before turning to me.

“Where to?”

It’s just a rebound. Have fun. “I’d love to see your hotel.”

His eyebrows raise, that same smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah? You don’t have to. I mean, we could just get a burger or somethin’.”

I look down at my hands in my lap. Did I misread the signals? He was definitely coming on to me, right? I wasn’t reading into that? Before I can spiral further, Benny puts his hand over mine. “Hey, look. I like you and think you’re fucking hot as hell and would love to take you to my room to uh, show you the room. But I don’t want to presume or make you feel obligated or anything.”

I would choose a fucking gentlemen for a rebound. Fuck. I close my hand over his and meet his eyes. “Thanks, Benny. I don’t want to push you or presume either.”

He chuckles once, removing his hand to put his Jeep in reverse and then back into drive. “Sweetheart, you can take advantage of me any day.”

That breaks the awkwardness and has us laughing, falling back into conversation easily as Benny navigates through traffic. Gently, I lay his hand on my bare thigh again, wrapping my hand over his. He’s talking about something, I honestly can’t focus because he’s started to move, his fingers tracing slow lines across my skin as his hand moves further up my leg, getting closer to where I desperately want him to be. We hit a red light and the Jeep goes quiet, Benny turning to look at me as he slides his hand further up, his pinkie finger just barely tracing the crease of my thigh, heat and wet pooling just beyond his touch. My lips part and I let out a gasp of air, my eyes finding his. 

There’s a moment of hesitation but then I grip his shirt, pulling him towards me, our lips crashing together. He nips at my bottom lip and I gasp, Benny taking full advantage to slide his tongue into my open mouth, a small moan escaping me. His free hand leaves the steering wheel to grip the back of my head, holding me to him as he explores my mouth. The car behind us honks and we jump apart, the light having already turned green. Benny sticks his hand up to apologize to the car behind us, driving on, but immediately places his hand back on me, this time, his pinkie grazes up my panties and I squirm a little in my seat, not used to this much attention. He stills his movements.

“Is it too much?” He’s actually concerned.

“More like, not enough.”

Benny makes it to his hotel in record time.

Heated touches and kisses down the hallway has Benny dropping his room key a few times. As he tries to jam it into the lock, I slide my hands around him from behind, moving up his stomach from under his shirt and fuck he has a nice body, my hands moving lightly over his toned chest. He finally jams the key into the lock and flings the door open, tossing his keys on top of the dresser. He spins back around to face me, his eyes blown wide and dark with lust. 

He swallows hard. “Are you…are you sure?”

I step close to Benny, gently take his wrist and turn his hand palm up. One hand still holding his, I open my bag and fish out one of the foil squares, and place the condom in Benny’s hand. He glances down at it before looking back at me, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Rea, did you get a condom from your friend?”

I can feel the heat blooming in my cheeks. “No! I mean, technically yes but she-”

He cuts me off with his lips, one hand wrapped around my head and the other grips my hips, fingers digging into my skin as he pulls me flush against him. I can feel him hard beneath his jeans and I moan into his kiss, pressing myself against him so I can try to relieve some of the rapidly increasing hear between my thighs. He moves us and I feel the bed hit the back of my knees, but he holds me tighter before breaking the kiss. Both of us rip the shirts from our bodies, my bra quickly following. I reach for my pants but he grabs my wrists and stills them, his blue eys falling to my chest. He gently cups a boob and lightly pinches the nipple and I gasp, the small movement shooting straight between my legs. 

Then Benny sinks to his knees, eye level with my pants. He pops open the button on my jeans, sliding them down my legs where I help him kick them off. His large fingers trace the outline of my panties, the heat pooling there as I gasp at his touch. He hooks his fingers into them and slides them down my legs too, his eyes locked on the space between my thighs. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he half whispers. A half chuckle escapes me before it turns into a moan as he slides his nose up my slit, bumping into my clit. He growls, using my hips to push me down on the bed, tossing my legs over his shoulders like it was nothing. 

Which I have no time to think about because his mouth is on me, his hands on my inner thighs, pressing them further apart, widening his canvas. His tongue explores me, seeking all the areas that have me writhing under his firm grip. He somehow finds spots that I didn’t even know existed, sucking lightly, lapping, the coil of pleasure quickly tightening until a sound erupts from me, somewhere between a chant and a moan, my fingers gripping his hair to keep him in the same spot as he prolongs my release. 

My head is in a blissful haze, but I manage a whine as he pulls away from me, taking his pants off when he does. I hear the sound of the condom opening and I watch him as he rolls the condom on himself. I lean up on my elbows to see better, because he’s gorgeous, not girthy but longer, and definitely not anywhere near a size I’ve had in me. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take my time.” I blink, looking up at his face and see that there’s a hint of concern there, like he wants to make sure I’m comfortable.

I scoot further up on the bed to give him more space. “Don’t worry about me. I can take you.”

His eyes darken and he grabs my ankle, yanking me back down towards the end of the bed. I squeal, my body heating up again as he lowers himself between my legs. He pauses, his eyes bright as he glances between my own. 

“You’re so beautiful,” there’s that almost whisper voice again, his eyebrows pulling together so he looks like a puppy.

“So are you, Benny.” We take each other in for a few more moments, my body about to burst with all of the tension and hormones racing through it. “Now please fuck me, now.” I know I’m begging, but I don’t care. 

And neither does Benny, apparently, as he smirks. “Yes ma’am.”

He slowly presses his hips forward and I let out a moan as he stretches me, pushing further and further in. I’m not sure how, but he bottoms out, dropping his head to my chest, breathing heavy for a moment. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Gimme a sec so I don’t blow my load like a teenager.”

I manage some sort of confirmation sound, but then a moment later, he slowly pulls out and presses back in, repeating this a few times so I can adjust to his length. It’s driving me mad and I writhe under him, feeling every inch of him as he slowly moves in and out of me. He pulls out, his hips pausing as he looks down at me and it’s like time stops. Just for a moment. Then his lips crash to mine as he pushes forward quickly, sliding into me in one fast movement and I cry out, my hands gripping his biceps, nails digging into his skin as his hips set a fast pace, his direction and speed adjusting to my moans of pleasure. Every time he pushes in, he hits a spot somewhere at the back of me, a place no one has touched, and it sends sparks through my vision, my entire body like a livewire as he pushes me towards the edge.

“Fuck, Benny, I’m gonna-” my body ignites, pleasure radiating out from my cunt, his name tumbling from my lips in praise, begging him to keep going, or stop, or do it again. I have no idea, my head so engulfed in pleasure. 

“Fuck!” He yells, pressing into me one last time before he grunts, little pants and gasps tumbling from him. His head falls to my chest as he comes down. 

We stay like that for several moments, trying to catch our breath. Eventually, Benny pulls out, tossing the condom in the trash can by the bed before rolling onto his back next to me.

“What’s your third favorite dinosaur?”

I laugh, my entire body moving with it as Benny joins in, tears running down our cheeks as my movements turn me towards him. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that question, let alone just after sex.”

Benny shrugs, smiling. “Had to break the tension and awkwardness somehow.” 

“Well that definitely works!”

His face grows serious. “You didn’t answer the question.”

After that laughing fit, I think on it a moment. “Pterodactyl. Because they can fly.”

Benny nods. “Interesting. What’s your favorite then?”

“Nope. I’m saving that answer for after round 2.”

His eyes grow dark almost instantly. “Round 2? Like, tonight?”

“Well, my friend gave me a whole row of condoms and I don’t want to take any home.”

—----

A few hours later, I’m laying in Benny’s bed, thoroughly fucked, Benny sprawled across the bed on his stomach, lightly snoring. He’s so fucking beautiful. But then Sage’s words echo in my head “It’s just a rebound. Have fun and bounce.” I sigh, unsure of what to do. I actually do like Benny, but is that just because he’s the first guy to actually pay attention to me in a long while? Self-doubt seeps in, my ex’s hurtful words and actions taking away the blissful feeling I’d had moments before. I shake my head, telling myself that if any of it was true, I wouldn’t be in a gorgeous man’s bed, a man who just spent the last few hours pulling every spark of pleasure possible from me. 

I quietly stand, gathering up my clothes. I get them on and lace up my boots, trying not to wake Benny. It’s better if I leave before he wakes up. Rebounds don’t work out anyway, so why prolong the inevitable? 

I turn to head towards the door and see the hotel pad of paper and pen next to the phone on the dresser. I stare at it a moment before grabbing the pen, scrawling a quick “Thank You” with a heart at the end. I slide it under his keys and walk to the door, glancing back at the sleeping form of Benny, the man who just restored my confidence. I close it quietly behind me, making sure the lock clicks into place and request an Uber to take me home. 

—----

Over the next few weeks, I try to get Benny out of my head. I try to stop thinking about him or talking about him. I know he’s a rebound, and those relationships don’t work out, as Sage has reminded me more than once. And I’m not sure I’m ready for a new relationship. I think. But talking to him had been so easy, effortless. Like we had been friends since forever. In a moment of desperation, I looked up the hotel on my Uber app and called it, knowing they wouldn’t give me any information about Benny. I can’t blame them. I don’t even know his last name. 

—----

2 lines. The pink lines emerge bright against the white of the testing stick, showing me the same result as the other 4 pregnancy tests I’d taken. My stomach lurches again and I make it to the toilet just in time. I close the lid and flush, wiping my mouth with a washcloth as I stare at my reflection. How the fuck did this happen? We’d used a condom every time, and he used them correctly. It must have been a faulty condom. Fuck, Benny. How am I going to tell him? No really, how? I don’t even know his last name and now I’m having his child. A knock at the door pulls me from my spiral.

“Rea?”

I sniff and wipe my face again. “Pregnant.”

She’s silent for just a beat. “Can I come in?”

I make a noise in approval and she opens the door, heads directly for me and pulls me into a hug where I let myself lose it. Tears streaming down my face, dry heaving breaths, all of it. It takes me a while to calm down enough to talk. Sage wipes my face with a cool cloth and it helps to soothe me a bit more. 

“Are you going to tell him?”

I scoff. “How, Sage?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Call the hotel? They have to have his info.”

I shake my head. “They won’t give it to me. Especially since I don’t know his last name.”

Sage cocks her head to the side. “How do you know?”

“Oh. I uh, I may have called a few weeks ago to uh try and uh…find. Him.”

She opens her mouth and then closes it. “That doesn’t really matter now. Do you know what you want to do?”

There’s so much I don’t know. I don’t know Benny’s last name. I don’t know where he lives, just that it’s local. I don’t know what he’d even say. I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know a lot. But there’s one thing that I did know right away.

“I’m keeping the baby.”

Sage takes a deep breath and nods once. “I can’t wait to be an auntie.”

—----

“Come on, Rea! You need to get out.”

I sigh, rubbing the side of my belly. “I’m 6 months pregnant, Sage. I don’t belong at an MMA fight.”

Sage copies my sigh and places her hand over mine. “You’ve been cooped up in your room for weeks. Just…come out to get some fresh air?”

“By sitting in a crowded auditorium surrounded by drunks?”

Sage shrugs. “I’m sure they won’t be drunk drunk. Besides, Henry has a special section all roped off just for us.” 

Henry is super sweet. The burly bear sized, flannel clad man from Mick’s had fit right into our friendship, even becoming a sort of surrogate brother for me. And it’s clear to me that he loves Sage with everything he is just by the way he looks at her.

I sigh again, shrugging in a defeated manner. Sage squeals and grips my arm. “Thank you! Oh, you’ll have fun! Just wait and see!”

So now I find myself in a crowded auditorium, surrounded by people drinking. Well, ok the crowd isn’t bad around us. Sage was right - Henry had literally roped off an entire section just for us and glared at anyone who tried to grumble about it. He was really into MMA and had a couple of cousins that were fighting so he always had tickets to some match that was happening. Are they called matches? I don’t know. 

Whatever they’re called, we’re a few in, Henry leaning over to tell us about each of the fighters as they’re announced. These matches are pretty brutal - I didn’t realize just how violent they can get, even with rules in place. The last match ends and the guy with the mop comes back out, cleaning away the blood that came from the last guy losing several teeth with a blow. Once cleaned, the microphone squeaks back on to announce the next fighters.

“From Red Feather Lakes, Colorado, standing 6’3, weighing in at 195 pounds, I give you BEN MILLER!”

A familiar memory scratches at the back of my head as the crowd screams and the doors open from the locker rooms somewhere in the throngs of people now on their feet. Henry leans in to yell in my ear.

“This guy is great! He’s kicked my cousin’s asses a few times! He…”

Whatever he said after fades into the background, which has dimmed to a loud hum, as Ben Miller struts into the ring, tossing his shirt to the side, revealing a very familiar tattoo and his face finally comes into my view.

Benny. 

My stomach leaps into my throat, my heart hammering through my chest as I stare down at the man who I could never shake from my mind, even before I was having his child. Which he doesn’t know about. 

A bell dings and Benny takes a few steps towards his opponent, who immediately clocks him in his jaw, Benny’s head flying backwards. The man manages to get a couple more hits in, Benny almost absorbing all of the hits. But then the man hesitates and Benny takes that moment to attack, winding his way around the ring, jabbing at his opponent in swift, concise, planned motions. The man only stays up for a few more seconds before crumbling to the ground and giving in. The crowd goes wild as the ref holds Benny’s arm in the air, blood trickling down from his nose, a giant smile on his face. My stomach lurches and I quickly stand, yelling something about the bathroom to Sage as I grab my jacket and run for the doors, the room suddenly too small and loud. I shove open the arena’s double doors and stumble out into the nearly empty hallway. The doors close behind me and I pause a moment, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. But then the doors open behind me again and I attempt to stand up right.

“Rea?”

Benny’s voice echoes down the hallway and through me, my insides simultaneously tightening with nerves but also excited and swooning at his fucking calming tone. My back is to him but I don’t move. He takes a step closer.

“Rea? Is that you?”

Fuck. This isn’t how I would want him to find out. But how would he find out? It’s not like I could find him. I didn’t even know his last name. I don’t-

“Are you ok?”

His voice is closer now, only a few steps behind me. I swallow hard, willing myself to hold it together as I turn to face him, keeping my jacket covering my belly. His bright blue eyes immediately find mine, a smile quicking spreading across his beautiful face. He’s still shirtless and I have to focus to keep my eyes on his face.

“Rea! It is you! I thought I saw your face in the crowd! Did you see me fight?”

I manage a small smile. “Y-yeah. I did. Congrats.”

He shrugs. “Thanks. That guy was easy but when I saw you, I thought maybe he’d hit my head harder than I thought. What…I mean uh, how are you?”

I sigh, my small smile dropping. “I…I have to tell you something.”

His expression turns serious. “Ok. But if it’s about me not calling you, you sort of left me without a last name or number.” He chuckles but stops when I don’t react. 

I hold his gaze a moment longer before letting my jacket fall to the side, exposing my belly under my form fitting black dress. His eyes immediately fall to my belly, his head turning to the side as he takes it in. I can see the moment it clicks, only a second or 2 after I moved my jacket, his eyes widening as his brain works double time to do the math. He points to himself.

“Is that…am I…the dad?”

I nod, rubbing my hand along the side of my belly where the baby is currently moving. “Yes.” I wait for the yell or scoff of disbelief, storming off, telling me I won’t get anything. All of what I had anticipated. But when I look up at him I see tears shining in his bright blues.

“You’re not fuckin’ with me?” His eyebrows pinch together, enhancing the shine from his tears and I shake my head.

“No. You’re the only one I’ve been with since my ex.”

His eyes shift down to my belly again and his hands start to reach out, but then he stops, looking back up at me. “May I?”

I give him a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”

Benny drops to his knees in front of me, placing each of his large hands on either side of my belly, rubbing small circles into my skin. I take his hand and move it, placing it right over where I’d just felt movement. 

“He was just kicking over here.”

His eyes shoot up to mine. “A boy? I’m gonna have a son?”

Fuck how can his eyebrows do that? “Yeah. A son.”

And the tears start to fall, quietly streaking down his cheeks as he laughs, trying to dab at them with the hand I hadn’t just moved. “Hey, little man. It’s me. Your dad.” A hard kick lands right in Benny’s hand and he whoops, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You got your old man’s feet!” He continues to talk to my belly in the middle of the hallway, not caring if anyone sees him. His face is animated and lit up, despite the dried blood caked under his nose and for a second, I can see an entire future laid out before us. A wedding, a house, dancing together, maybe more kids. The love. It’s only when I snap out of this fairytale vision that I realize I was smoothing back his hair. I yank my hands back and drop them to my sides.

“Shit I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

He glances up at me. “Nah it’s ok. Actually, it felt good.” He watches me for a moment before his expression hardens. “Ok I need to get off this floor.”

He waves away my offer of a helping hand, gesturing towards my belly as he groans, standing to his full height before stretching out his legs. “I’m gettin’ too old to be kneeling on hard ass floors.”

We’re quiet for several moments, each of us just watching the other. 

“Why did you leave without sayin’ anything?”

I take a deep breath. “Benny, I…I’m sorry. I thought about you after that night. A lot. My friend had told me to just make it a rebound, to get my ex out of my head. Which it did, but what I didn’t expect was..well..you. I liked, well…like you a lot. You make me laugh, have some amazing stories, you’re funny, and hot as hell. But you also make me feel seen and heard. Like I wasn’t just there for convenience, which is ironic considering how we met, I realize that. I thought about trying to find you but the hotel wouldn’t tell me anything and I didn’t have anything to go by. And then I found out I was pregnant and I feel so guilty for not t- telling y- you, but I di-didn’t know h-how. I’m so s-s-sorry!” I can’t fight the pregnancy hormones anymore and the tears come, streaming down my face as I try to turn away, looking down and wiping furiously at my face. But then he’s there, pulling me towards him as best he can, his hand cradling the back of my head. 

“Hey, it’s ok. I never did tell you my last name or ask for your number neither. I could’ve but I didn’t.” My crying slows and he pulls back just enough to look down at me, wiping away a tear. “And I’ve regretted it ever since. I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you either, Rea. But I really had no way of finding you. But now that we’ve found each other again, can I have your number? I’d really like to take you to dinner.”

I let out a shaky chuckle. “It’s ok, Benny. You don’t have to do that.”

He cocks his head. “Do…what?”

“Take me to dinner. Listen, you can be as involved as you want. I won’t hold you to anything. I just wanted you to know. But you don’t have to-”

“No. I’m not asking you out because you’re pregnant. I’m asking you out because I’ve wanted to for months and regretted it every day that I didn’t.”

“Benny, really. It’s ok.”

“No, I- will you wait right here a moment?”

I nod and he places his hand on my belly once more, his son giving him another thump before he practically runs back through the double doors. Once they close, I walk over to the wall and lean my back against it, my emotions running through me. Is he telling the truth? Were we both just fucking idiots? That’s an obvious yes. But still, I don’t want him to feel like he owes me. It would be nice to hang with him again, though. No, Rea. Don’t make him feel forced. The double doors fly open and Benny comes running up to me, his wallet in his hand. 

“I don’t need money, Ben-”

He shakes his head. “No. Well I mean if you need it, I’ll gladly give it but that’s not…here.” He slides out a small slip of paper from behind his driver’s license and unfolds it, handing it to me. 

It’s the thank you note I scribbled to him and left in the hotel.

Tears well in my eyes again. “You..you kept this?” 

His eyes sparkle as they look at me. “Hell yeah I did. I told you, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. But I had no way of findin’ you. I went to the bar every night hoping to see you walk in. But I never did.”

“I got too busy with work and then..” I gesture down to my belly and he laughs, placing a hand on my stomach again.

“Yeah I can’t blame you for not wanting to be in a bar. Especially your first trimester.”

My eyebrows raise. “What do you know about trimesters?”

“My sister was a hot fuckin’ mess during hers. Sick all the time, emotional, all of it. She felt bad about it too no matter how much we told her not to worry. My niece is 5 now and has the attitude to match.” He chuckles. “I can’t wait to meet this little guy..my little guy. Ours? Fuck this is hard to say.”

“Either way, I’m just glad you can say it.” I clutch the paper in my hand for a moment before handing it back to him. 

“So when’s that dinner?”

We’re married a year later. 

---------------------------------

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@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox 

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@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk   

[kitchenisking]

yellow bonnet, muddy glove by BananaChef - (Rating: T, Words: 11,87)

“I love it,” he says, drawing her gaze back to his face. Colin retrieves his own plain handkerchief from where it is tucked inside his breast pocket and replaces it with his new gift from Pen. “Here.” He places his handkerchief in one of her hands and folds her other hand over it. “Now you have something from me, too.”

(Or: Colin and Penelope's friendship began many years before they married, and I know we all want to see it.)

Mother Knows Best by Mariequitecontrarie - (Rating: T, Words: 11,037)

A look at Season 3 told through character studies and “missing” scenes between Polin and their mothers, mostly Colin and Violet.

Come to Your Senses by canyonoflight - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 16,148)

A non-linear telling of Colin and Penelope's friendship, their relationships with others, and how they finally come to their senses after years of being apart.

hear it in the silence by liziana - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5,230)

Life has certainly changed since Penelope and Colin became parents. As a typically chaotic day bleeds into a sleepless night, Penelope wonders if she’ll ever get a moment alone with her handsome husband. And when she finally does, are they ready to add another to their family?

Lady Whistledown's Amends by fatalfantasies_26 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 4,151)

Pen’s Whistledown cloak has just been laundered. Why? She hasn’t used it since Colin discovered her that night. Colin confronts her, she has a silly, forgivable explanation, and then he has an idea. Pen has apologized to him for her Lady Whistledown actions but…Lady Whistledown herself has not properly made amends. Put the cloak on, Pen. Only the cloak.

CW: Light sexual violence, with consent, because Colin is our consent king.

After the Butterfly Ball: a brief conversation between Rae and Penelope by ScarletFruit73 - (Rating: T, Words: 491)

Colin has just left Penelope’s side for the first time since the events of the Butterfly Ball. Rae seizes her chance to have a much needed conversation. Pregnancy discovery as wished for by many fans. Show universe.

Left to the Imagination by LizzieeeeeeeeeD - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 19,626)

Colin and Penelope sealed their fate in the carriage then anticipated their marriage vows only hours later. The friends, who had spent years toeing the line of propriety, were now lovers.

Navigating from their tender moment with the mirror to a happily ever after had its ups and downs. We saw much turmoil, but what about the rest?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is no way Pen and Colin had one romp on a chaise lounge then nothing till after the Butterfly ball. So I have written some missing scenes that were left to our imagination.

Starting after their first time and ending around where the show concludes, I’ve written some fillers for what could have been without all the side plots. Each chapter is chronological and can be read on its own or in order, as long as you watched part 2 of S3, you can follow this story. I’m not changing what was given to us or the events of S3, only adding some scenes in between. All Polin of course.

a dance for two by candlelight by Demisexual Colin Bridgerton (karawrites) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4,216)

A waltz by the warming glow of candles, another dance—far more heady—and a return to the mirror.

With My Past, For Our Future by napoleonhart - (Rating: G, Words: 1,721)

s03e07 missing scene: Colin visits Penelope the night before their wedding.

You’re More Than A Ten! by msrbland - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 5,365)

The time Colin was drunk and confessed his feelings about his best friend to a tiktok interviewer on the street.

[crystaldivination]

𝗣𝗜𝗖𝗞 𝗔 𝗠𝗨𝗚

𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶 𝗺𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀

Hello there beautiful souls! With this cute little pick a card reading let’s us see what this month has in store for you and what you can do to make the best out of it, shall we?

✤ masterlist • paid services �� spoil me! ♡

Check out my latest pick a card reading here

how to choose your pile. take a few deep breaths & look at each pile separately. Take your time to pick out a pile that sparks an interest or a memory in you. Come back later to it again if you can't decide.

The piles

from left -> right

Disclaimer: this is a general reading which may or may not resonate with you. Take what resonates and leave out anything that doesn't. Feel free to choose another pile if you'd like.

𝗣𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝟭

New opportunities and visions

You might meet someone of interest who might or might not become someone significant to you nevertheless they will be influential in your daily life in some way. This person would be someone who comes into your life in order to help you build structure or a routine. They will help you to reorganize your goals and look at them from a different point of view. They seem to be someone mature who can guide you along your way and who you can learn from and vice versa. This connection could develop into a great friendship or even into a romantic relationship depending on what you want to attract. Try to approach life in a different way. New change is ahead. Things won’t be the way you’re used to but it’ll be positive just like a fresh breeze of air. Be open to receive and get help from others. It’ll give you the strength and motivation to embark into a new process. You’ll slowly see this as the month passes by. Stay curious and have a lot of fun, pile 1!

𝗣𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝟮

Reflect

You’ll have more time for yourself this month, pile 2. This time can be used to go within and practice self help. Self care is very important now and needed so if you feel like the past months have been rough and didn’t do you well it’s the time to lean back and focus on your well-being . Find alignment with yourself again. Look back at what you have achieved until now and give yourself some credits. You deserve them. Meditate from time to time or journal if you like it. This will help you ground yourself and practice gratitude even for yourself. While doing so also really think about anything you want to improve or change and come up with a plan to carry these things out. A great time to rearranged priorities such as connections, relationships, work and life. Really think about what you want to do and set your intentions well. Deep cleansing in a lot of areas is indicated here. Gone with the old one and welcome new positive attitudes, pile 2!

𝗣𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝟯

Growth

You��ll be busy this month, pile 3, but in a good sense. You’ll be occupied by many projects which could help you build new stable connections and bring you growth as well as learning. You might get to work on the things you really like. It’s the time to get work done and enjoy the fruits from the hard work and all the achievements you might’ve gather from the past two years until now. It’ll be a great time with full of new experiences and excitements. It’s your time to shine and show off your skills so use it wisely and plentifully. Some of you might even get to be in some sort of high/er positions that’d come with making decisions and force you to have or take responsibilities but overall this will be something you’ll get a lot out from so enjoy the ride to your goals. I see a lot of positive energy filled with success and recognition. Lucky you! Go get it, pile 3!

© 2023 crystaldivination ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited.

𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀! 𝖨 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎. L𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 💓

[juyeonszn]

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER (PT. 2)

PAIRING kevin moon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.60k

GENRES angst ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader is better than me cause i would not let kevin do all the shit he’s done 😭, ANYWAY i digress, this part is very reader-centric — whereas part one is very kevin-centric, inner turmoil goes absolutely crazy, most of this fic is reader putting kevin in his place and him realizing how big of an asshole he truly is, mentions of injury (past tense), mentions of insecurity, lots of arguing, reader cries at one point or another, the smut places a very minimal role in this, but unprotected sex, public sex (the auditorium dressing room), no foreplay but wtv we fall like soldiers in battle, pussy job lowkey (high key…), creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY it wasn’t like you and kevin hated each other. in fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

MORE oh my god. it’s finally fucking here. A MONTH, 2 SICKNESSES AND MANY MANY STRESSFUL NIGHTS LATER— part two of princess and the pauper is here!!! i’m so sorry to those of u who have been itching and waiting on me to get ‘er done,,, it’s been an ordeal to say the least, and while it’s nearing the two month mark since the black out or back out collab was announced, SHE FINALLY FINISHED!!! for once i saw something through omg i can sleep peacefully and work on my other wips without guilt now… ��� ALSO THANK U SO MUCH MAYA @/kimsohn FOR PUSHING ME THROUGH THIS and for making me thug it out bc without u it definitely would’ve taken much longer to finish 💔 please dont forget to read part one and the other fics in the series if u haven’t!! both are linked below! and as always, pls reblog if u enjoyed <3

PART ONE | SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

TAGLIST @millksea @deobibbang @deobi0412

Never in your life have you felt so… Confused.

It wasn’t just confusion that settled deep in the pit of your stomach. There was a sharp pain there too, like someone stabbed you and twisted the knife. That was probably the best way to describe what you were feeling. You were bleeding out, and no one was coming to save you.

Kevin wasn’t answering your calls. He wasn’t answering your texts. He ran out of the lecture hall as soon as class was over, never giving you a moment to speak to him. It was making you nervous.

You still had half of a dance to choreograph and a fuck ton of pressure riding on your back. After the last performance you and him did together, you’d have a lot of eyes on you. It most definitely wasn’t your fault that he dropped you. How many people willingly want to acquire a broken ankle? The crutches were a bitch to maneuver around with. But like every single thing that’s happened in the three years you’ve known Kevin Moon, he’s managed to place the blame on you like it was.

It was crucial that you make amends with him even if it was momentarily. Your final grades were dependent on your performance. If he couldn’t get his shit together for at least that, he was a lost cause in your mind. Not even your professor would be able to refute that fact. Actually, nobody would be able to refute that fact.

Your lips form an O as you blow the steam away from your coffee, pulling out your phone to try Kevin’s phone once again. The line rings a few times before going straight to voicemail like it has the past couple weeks. You kiss your teeth, tying your sweater around your waist as you slump in your chair. The baristas at the campus cafe were probably sick of seeing you sitting in the same high-top counter spot since the incident with Kevin in the studio.

“Y/N?”

Ji Changmin appears beside you and you click your phone off, so he wouldn’t see his friend’s contact on the screen. You give the Early Childhood Dev major a weak smile.

“Changmin! What’s up? How are you and your girlfriend?” You hope he can’t recognize the distress written all over your features. You highly doubt it, though. You can feel the wrinkles pulling at your skin.

“We’re good! How’s the showcase performance going with Kev?” He asks like he knows something you don’t. When your lips fall to a thin line, an all too familiar grimace, he sighs a knowing sigh. “Do I have to smack some sense into him?”

“Not gonna lie, yeah, you do. He’s being really fucking difficult and like half of our dance is unfinished. I can’t even get a hold of him, so I’m starting to lose my patience.” You express your annoyance. The border between complacency and free-will was a lot slimmer than one might think. For example; your feelings when it comes to Kevin Moon.

You don’t expect to get a returning call later that night when you’re washing dishes after dinner.

In fact, you don’t even hear it at first, too absorbed in scrubbing the staining out of your bowl. It’s when your roommate yells out to you, that you snap out of your reverie, albeit dazedly. You dry your hands on a nearby tea towel, hitting the green answer button without a second glance at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Your heart catches in your throat. You recognize the owner of the voice practically by the first breath into the receiver alone. It’s actually kind of unhealthy how quickly it took to realize who was on the other end. You swallow heavily, praying he doesn’t hear the gulp.

“In the latter part of the afternoon, I believe. Why?” You try not to sound hopeful. That’s one thing you’ve learned being in the same vicinity as Kevin Moon. You could never be too expecting, because it would only lead to disappointment. And you’d dealt with enough of that the past few years.

“We need to finish this fuck ass choreography,” he grunts, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue. “I’ll meet you in the same studio at 4.”

He doesn’t let you get anything else in, hanging up swiftly. You deflate as you set your phone back on the counter. All you had to do was push through these next couple weeks, like you always have when it came to him.

That should be a piece of cake, right?

Wrong.

“No, that looks stupid.”

You grit your teeth, swiping the back of your hand on your forehead. You’d been inside of this studio maybe 30 minutes tops, and you were on the verge of strangling Kevin. With as long as you’d been putting up with his shit, you thought getting through this wouldn’t be as rough as it’s been. But if there was one thing Kevin Moon had, it was pride.

“We don’t have time for you to nitpick right now. Let’s just finish the choreography and clean it after.” Your hands rest on your hips, nostrils flaring.

“If we clean as we go, we’ll have more time to drill it into our systems and get down muscle memory. It’ll be a stronger performance.” He argues. You roll your eyes as you turn away from him, taking a water break to calm yourself. “Why do you have so much fucking attitude today? You were the one preaching to the choir about me making things difficult. It seems the tables have turned.”

Usually, you were pretty good at keeping your frustration at bay when it came to Kevin’s remarks. You liked to think it was because you were down bad for the guy, despite him always wanting nothing to do with you. But as of late, (Read: Since your performance of Princess and the Pauper) every little comment he’s made has managed to crawl under your skin like a damn parasite. You were beginning to get real sick of it.

“God, you’re so—“ You interrupt yourself to groan, fingers curling into fists. “You’re fucking insufferable. Do you know that? I’ve been bending over backwards to ensure we aren’t kicked out of the goddamn program and you don’t even fucking care. Over what? A kiss that you initiated?”

Kevin is stunned into silence, not at all prepared for you to blow up on him like that. After all, that razor thin line between complacency and free-will had yet to be crossed. And well, it appears that you just crossed it. You whip around toward him, pulling down the collar of your t-shirt to reveal the faintest of bruises that still remains from your impromptu act of intimacy.

“I’ve had to look at this every day for a week and all it’s done is make me feel shitty, ashamed of something I didn’t even start. Now I need you to stop acting like an ass and get it together so we can finish this and perform the best dance this university has ever seen.” Your chest is heaving up and down, similarly to when you made out against the mirrors last week. Except this time isn’t out of breathlessness, but rather anger and exhaustion.

Kevin’s eyes don’t leave the hickey on the base of your throat, something undetectable swimming in them as he stares. You can’t read the emotions swirling rampantly in his irises, a mixture of too many blurring into one another. Honestly, it’s funny. It’s funny that it’s taken you this long to get him to shut his mouth for once.

So you laugh.

It’s a snort at first, an off handed projection of how comical the situation has become to you. But then it metamorphoses into a small giggle, which leads to full scale laughter that has you hunching over your knees and wiping away tears. This whole thing is stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid.

“What are you laughing at?” His eyebrow raises in question, broken from his weird trance.

“I just can’t believe it took three years for me to shut you up,” you shake your head slowly, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm. “You’re always the one who can’t stop talking.”

Kevin deadpans, mouth pulled pin-straight as his expression drops. “You’re so unserious.”

As the height of your laughter reaches a valley, you collapse onto the ground, resting your back against the mirror. You take another long sip of water before sighing. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. Trust me, I know. But, we’ve gotta set aside our differences just this once. Please, for the sake of the department.”

“Fine,” he murmurs, plopping down beside you to stretch his back. “Let’s finish choreographing so we can start cleaning it up.”

It’s a victory in your book, and probably the most obedient the Pisces has ever been. Maybe this wouldn’t end in complete disaster like you assumed it would. It turns out Kevin Moon wasn’t entirely brainless and knew when he was wrong. Sometimes. Maybe. We’ll see.

You shut your eyes and visualize what you’ve choreographed so far, going over the moves in your head to see if the rest will come to you like a prophecy. It’s wishful thinking, but with how much you’ve accomplished since setting foot in the studio, you’re willing to try anything. The track would be nice for elements of hip hop style choreography, but you knew the audience wouldn’t eat it up as much as they would the route you’re currently taking.

Driver roll up the partition, please…

The song plays through the speakers and you watch as Kevin stands to run through everything you have. You’re entranced by his movements, the flow of his body on certain points. It’ll look ten times better once you’re doing it with him, costumed and performing it perfectly in front of a crowd. You can picture it now, the gentle but controlled glide of his hands along your arms when Beyoncé sings “We ain’t even gonna make it to this club”. He was right. You very well might be seduced by your enemy.

“Should we use props?” You suddenly voice, eyes narrowed in thought. He hums.

“That’s… not a half-bad idea, actually,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “What did you have in mind?”

“A chair, maybe,” you look away from him, placing your focus on the way your toes alternate between a tendu and relaxed position. “That could take up a good chunk of the choreo.”

Kevin stalks over to the supply closet in the corner of the studio, pulling out a folding chair. He puts it in the center of the room gently, careful to not scratch up the wooden, lacquered flooring. You spend the next couple of hours brainstorming through numerous versions of the dance. While it was a lot easier than your past practices, there were still the occasional argument over which movements looked good and whatnot.

At a certain point, everything becomes cohesive and the end is near. You gulp down some water as Kevin does some random choreography. It’s then that it comes to you, like a vision from That’s So Raven. You practically drop your water bottle, scrambling to your feet and stopping him. Your breath is heavy from fatigue and you’re slightly afraid of even suggesting this, but it’s exactly what this dance needs. It’s exactly what everyone wants to see from the two of you.

He pauses the music and gestures for you to get on with it. You push down the lump in your throat, scared of rejection. But maybe he was smart and he would agree that this is what you have to do. “What if we did a lift?”

You see the hesitation swirling in his eyes and you raise a finger before he can shut you down entirely. “Nothing crazy like… um— you know— Princess and the Pauper, but something smaller. Something… sexy? Like, Dancing with the Stars type beat.”

When he shrugs instead of outright dismissing your idea, you know you’ve won. He nods slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Okay, sure. But we better clean up everything else fast so we can perfect the lift.”

The two of you take another three hours running the entirety of the choreography, ingraining the moves into your brains and muscles. You still had a bit until the actual showcase, but your priority now lies with the lift. If you nailed it, the entire department would very well grovel after you in reparation for all of the slack you got after Kevin dropped you. Hell, the entire university would kiss your feet. This was your redemption. In more ways than one.

You both decide to call it a day at around 9:30 PM. Your hands reach for your belongings and then you halt yourself, a thought coming to mind. While you had him in this weird state of obedience, you figured it was as good a time as any to ask the question that’s been weighing on you for the past few years. Your fingers swipe away the sweat beading around your hairline.

”Kevin,” you start, voice a lot softer than before. “Why do you— what did I do to make you dislike me so much?”

He’s caught completely off guard, eyes widening in surprise. If he was anticipating you to say anything else prior to parting ways tonight, he didn’t think this would be it. He’s actually a little off put that you hadn’t asked him this already in the span of your definitely-one-sided rivalry. He takes a large gulp of water.

”I’d call it indifference, not dislike,” he corrects after a pregnant silence. “It’s really fucking stupid thinking about it in hindsight. I don’t know if you remember this time, way back in our first year, we ran into each other at the campus cafe— literally, might I add— and you spilled your coffee all over this white shirt of mine that Changmin had gotten for me as a birthday gift. I only recently found out that it wasn’t as expensive as he made it out to be.”

You blink at his admission, processing his words as thoroughly as possible. You don’t know what you wanted him to say. You weren’t even sure if there was a concrete reason for him to be so fucking mean to you all this time. And now that you know, you come to the conclusion that Kevin Moon isn’t as smart as you’ve painted him out to be in your head. He’s actually a gigantic idiot. Because who in their right mind goes through these lengths to form a distance between the only other person on par with their talent?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re bursting into another fit of laughter. Kevin falters at your reaction. He was waiting for you to blow up on him, to scream in his face for causing you so much pain and unnecessary drama over something so silly. So when you do none of that, when you start fucking laughing like a damn hyena, he feels dumb. Like his entire college career has been built off of nothing.

”This is so—“ you pause to gather your bearings, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “We’ve spent so much time going back and forth over some spilled coffee? Surely you’ve realized how insane that is at some point.”

”It took a lengthy argument with Changmin, but yeah, I did,” he nods, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, finally getting your things together. The two of you bid each other an awkward goodbye. Neither of you knew what to make of your relationship now that things had been partially sorted through. There was a fuck ton of baggage that still had to be sifted, but at least you had an answer.

That was enough to push through this showcase performance. You think.

You’re nervous.

Never in your entire life have you ever been this nervous for a performance.

You grew up doing musical theatre and dancing, it’s always been the one constant presence you could rely on. But standing here, backstage at the showcase, you think you’re going to throw up. Your palms are clamming up uncontrollably and your chest feels unbearably heavy as you watch the quartet doing a contemporary piece to some ballad you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. There were still a couple groups before you.

Not even when you had to perform fuckass Princess and the Pauper were you this anxious. You wince, trying to stop the incessant bouncing of your leg. Your weight keeps shifting from one hip to the other. As a seasoned veteran, you don’t know why you feel this way. Maybe it had to do with all the pressure riding on this very dance. Every single eye in that crowd was going to scrutinize your every move on that stage.

“Calm down,” a voice whispers harshly from beside you. “You’re making me nervous.”

Kevin wraps his fingers around your wrist, stopping the annoying tap-tap-tap your own were doing against your thigh. He gives you a look, and you sigh. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

That’s a lie. Not only was the high expectations from the entire school getting to you, but so was the fear of history repeating itself. He knows this, it was inevitable. After what happened the last time he was tasked with lifting you, it was only natural.

”We’ve drilled this dance hundreds, if not thousands, of times, Y/N. We’ll do just fine.” Kevin assures you.

His hand feels foreign holding yours, like it was illegal for his skin to be touching your own. You feel your lower lip quiver, a sense of trepidation that you’ve never once felt creeping down your spine. Your mind was spiraling, and quite honestly, Kevin being so close was making it worse. All you could think about was him dropping you again, leaving you in the middle of the stage with a broken leg and a broken heart. You release a shaky breath and he turns to face you.

Your eyes widen and he searches your face for any disingenuity. When he finds his answer, he brings the hand that was holding yours up to cup your cheek. He’s cautious, afraid he might break you like he always does. He waits for you to shove him away and to yell at him for being a fucking coward.

You don’t. You stay still, hoping he follows through with what you think he’s about to do. And then he does.

It’s such a featherlight peck of his lips on your own, you almost don’t even register. But sparks shoot from the source all the way to the tips of your fingers. You feel as if you were dealt a static shock of electricity, your whole body buzzing from the small kiss alone.

He pulls away just in time for the stage manager to inform you that you’re next. Kevin rolls his neck jogging over to the wings to patiently await your performance like he hadn’t just kissed you a moment ago. You blink dumbly, two fingers coming up to touch where his lips had been. Sure the nerves were gone now, but the sensation of butterflies swarming about in your stomach easily replaced that. What the fuck was his problem?

“Our last performance is one I’m sure all of you have been waiting for. Kevin Moon and Y/N L/N with Partition!”

Before you know it, you and Kevin are in position, your body squared upstage and his to the crowd. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist and his steady breathing on your nose. The spotlight switches on, the heat of the lighting warm against the side of your face. It’s silent in the auditorium, but it rings in your ears. You could do this.

Let me hear you say ‘Hey Miss Carter’…

You move on reflex, muscle memory kicking in instantaneously. Each circle of your hips, every turn you make— a fouetté here, a pirouette there, a couple coupes, each roll of your body. But what really gets you is the long brushes of Kevin’s skin on your own. You’d practiced with distance between the two of you. There was a tension that had been there for years. Now it’s all coming to a rolling boil, a new uncharted tension that every single member in that audience could see.

And then comes the lift.

You, along with everybody in the auditorium, practically hold your breath when Kevin’s hands grip your hips. He raises you above him with all of his strength, completely focused on you and only you. You shut your eyes and feel the moment, like, really feel it. Your body is relaxed, the Dirty Dancing-esque lift bringing the whole performance together just like you knew it would. The only difference from the movie and real life is the fact that you’re flipped, your backside to Kevin and your chest to the ceiling.

Your eyes flutter open, the spotlight all but blinding you, and you finally feel content. Like everything has fallen into the right place for once in your life. Especially so when Kevin sets you down gently and you finish your dance with the utmost confidence.

The crowd erupts into a roaring chorus of applause, going as far as giving you a standing ovation. Holy shit. You pulled it off. You actually managed to pull it off.

Your face feels like it might split from how big your smile is. You and Kevin bow, walking off stage. You’re entirely too happy right now, a newfound energy overtaking you as you trail behind him.

“We did it!” You cheer as you follow him towards the dressing room where your things are. You’re the only ones left backstage, everyone else filtering out between performances. Kevin doesn’t give you much of a response, just a small nod of acknowledgment. Your smile falters. “What the hell is your problem?”

”Nothing, Y/N, fuck. Can you just mind your own fucking business?” He snaps, turning around to glare at you just as the door slams behind you. You instinctively flinch at both loud noises. His features soften but you take a step back from him.

You aren’t sure why you’re surprised. This isn’t anything new. Kevin has always made it crystal clear that he wasn’t your number one fan. Being neutral for your performance wasn’t enough to repair all the holes in whatever your relationship was, and you should’ve known better. You shouldn’t have let your guard down so easily. You should’ve expected this. Old dogs can never learn new tricks.

But Kevin’s scared. He’s afraid of letting you in after all the mess he’s put you through. The only thing he’s good at doing is hurting you, over and over like there was a prize that came out of it.

”Look…”

”No, you listen to me,” you swallow heavily, tears already tight lining your eyes. “Kevin, I have taken so much shit from you. Over these past few years I have just sat there and let you unload all your fucked up insecurities onto me. Have you ever wondered why? Have you ever thought to stop and think about why I let you be so mean to me without even questioning it?”

He says nothing, just stares with his lips parted. They open and close like a fish out of water, words there at the tip of his tongue but refusing to make their escape. And then one of your tears rolls down your cheeks and he’s directly in front you, his heart on his sleeve for the first time since you’ve met him.

”Why?” The simple question is so quiet, you almost don’t hear him. But his eyes hold so much hurt, so much anguish that you’ve never seen in a person before.

“I’ve had feelings for you for so long, it’s actually starting to ache. You’ve only ever seen me as this thing, this obstacle. And I’m afraid that that’s all I’ll ever be to you, because you won’t let me be anything else. You won’t—“

”That’s not true, Y/N,” Kevin sighs, looking off to the side, away from you. “I just— it’s complicated. It’s more than just being rivals.”

”So help me understand,” you frown. “Let me in, please.”

”My entire life I’ve had to work to get to where I am. I’ve fought tooth and nail to be as good of a performer as I am today. There were so many hoops I had to go through to even get into this program and— and I thought I’d finally become the best I could be. I thought that there was no way anyone could ever be better than me. And then you showed up. You and your pretty smile and your natural ability to be the best at everything you do. It was like you were the real life manifestation of all of my critics, of every challenge I faced to get here. Where I had to practice day and night to perfect something, it just came to you like second nature. During Princess and the Pauper, when I dropped you, it truly was an accident. But we’d spent so much time nailing it, that it— I just made myself feel better by saying it was your fault. ‘How could it have been my fault if I perfected it?’ I was jealous and petty and it was just easier to blame hating— to blame my indifference on you spilling coffee on my stupid shirt. For that, I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what you were waiting to hear, but it wasn’t that. Your tears turn into full on blubbering, because what the fuck? That’s so much burden for someone to carry on their shoulders for three years.

“Why are you— why are you crying?” He flounders, reaching up to swipe away your tears.

“I wish I knew… I wish I could’ve helped you somehow,” you sniffle. “Kev, I’ve always admired you and your work ethic. I hoped one day I’d be half as disciplined as you, half as determined.”

He blinks. You’re both dumb, aren’t you? Too focused on the wrong things. You both could’ve been a lot less hateful, a lot less miserable, had you just spoken your differences out. This entire rivalry has been completely one sided, but also built off of plain stupidity and ignorance. He supposes it’s not too late to make amends if you aren’t running in the opposite direction despite everything he’s put you through.

Kevin leans forward, hand still pressed to your cheek, and connects your lips softly. He’s testing the waters, making sure you’re comfortable before he continues anything. When you don’t back away just yet, he adds more force, deepening the kiss like a man starved. You whine against his lips.

This is what you’ve been wanting from him. More than what he gave you before your performance, but not what happened in the studio a few weeks ago. This desperation isn’t abashed lust, it’s unbridled affection— it’s everything he’s holed inside of himself for years, unwilling to let it see the light of day until now. If you were to label anything as perfection, it wouldn’t be a dance or a moment on stage, it would be this. Just you and Kevin finally bringing yourselves together in the most intimately emotional union.

He pulls you closer to him, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist, bunching up the thin fabric of your leotard. You can’t help but bury your fingers in his hair, tugging when he nips at your lower lip. A gasp permeates the air when his mouth travels south, along your jaw and down the side of your neck. He bites and sucks the tender skin at the base of your throat, ensuring he leaves his mark on you. This time isn’t careless, this time he has purpose. He wants everybody to know that you’re his, that you’re the only person insane enough to put up with him.

Your breathing is shaky when you reach behind you to lock the dressing room, dragging him over to the long vanity adjacent to you. He slots between your legs when you hoist yourself onto the surface. He pecks your lips and pauses his movements, rubbing up and down your thighs. In the dim, yellow lighting of the room, you look so gorgeous. He’s always thought you were beautiful, the most stunning thing he’s ever laid his eyes on, but he’s repressed it for so long. He wants to take his time staring at what he’s avoided.

”You’re so pretty,” he says quietly, kissing you again and again and again. “I don’t think I can last long with you.”

“Can we skip the foreplay?” You ask, bottom lip jutted into a pout. “Need you to just fuck me like you mean it.”

Kevin’s forehead falls to your shoulder with a groan. “I don’t deserve you,” God, he’s such an idiot for holding out from this. You should’ve been given the world and so much more. He has a lot of lost time to make up for. He kisses your shoulder with a sigh. “Yeah, baby, I can do that.”

You don’t waste another second, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your leotard. He has to bite down on his tongue when he sees that you’re braless, fingers going slack as they unbutton the rest of his silk shirt. You shimmy out of the one piece, left in nothing but the fishnet stockings you wore underneath and your lacy panties. Kevin thinks he must’ve done at least something right in a past life to experience this.

Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him, undoing his slacks and kicking them down his legs with your feet. Something takes over him when he rips a bigger hole in your stockings, pushing your underwear to the side. His thumb glides through your folds with ease, your slick providing enough lubricant. He pushes your lower lips apart while you busy yourself shoving his underwear to his ankles.

His cock slips inside of you with less friction than he would’ve thought, but he doesn’t complain, screwing his eyes shut as he acclimates to the feeling of your walls surrounding him. You moan, such a soft sound that he nearly loses his balance.

“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, digging his fingers into your hips as he rocks his own. “You’re so so perfect.”

The praise is too much for you, given the circumstances. Your brain is already cloudy, stuffed with what could only be described as cotton. You watch with half lidded eyes as he begins to piston into you at a faster speed. This all feels like a fever dream, something that was only possible in your craziest fantasies. Even then, it seemed unlikely.

“‘M close, Kev,” you whine, unable to stay still and attempting to match his thrusts.

“Already? We’ve only just started, gorgeous.” He laughs, but it’s breathy, strained from the exertion of his body. You hardly have the strength in you to be embarrassed about it, especially since he’s seen you in much worse situations.

You nod frantically, snaking a hand between you to circle your clit with nimble fingers. Kevin halts you and pulls out momentarily, sliding his cock between your folds like it was your hand. The tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you dizzier than you already were.

He presses back into you with ease, resuming his sloppy but animalistic pace. He uses his thumb to continue your handywork, your cunt fluttering around him needily. You’re both losing your sanity quickly, both going batshit insane over the bare minimum. You’ve just needed this for so long, yearned for this moment for a humiliating amount of time.

Your moans start to rise in pitch and he groans. “Fuck, baby, you can cum for me.”

He could cry, he thinks, when your back arches and your legs shake with your orgasm. It hits you like a freight train, triggering his own release just as fast.

You stay like that for a bit, regaining yourselves and comprehending everything that’s just happened. So much for the whole hating each other narrative.

“What does this mean for us?” You suddenly ask, arms hooked around Kevin’s neck. You’re still connected by your lower halves, but he makes no effort to pull away. Part of you likes it that way, it gives you hope that this isn’t a one time affair.

“It’ll be hard for things to change overnight,” he says, massaging your sides. “We have a lot of unresolved issues and insecurities that we still have to push past. But I’m willing to do that with you. I want to take a chance on us.”

Your lips pull into a smile, an expression you don’t think you’ve worn around him genuinely in the years you’ve known him. “I do, too.”

“It’s kind of ironic that it was a performance that tore us apart and brought us back together, don’t you think?” He laughs.

“And we fucked in the dressing room…” You add, glancing to the top corner where a security camera is stationed.

“Maybe we should get out of here before someone checks the footage,” he suggests. “Tau Beta Zeta is conveniently hosting our end of semester party tonight, do you wanna be my plus one?”

“I would be honored.” You grin, pecking his lips tenderly.

Perhaps happy endings existed after all.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[watchmegetobsessed]

JUST HOW FAST THE NIGHT CHANGES (part 2)

A/N: okay okay part 2! here we are!! my progress about the story is not as fast as i would like it but im trying my best!! feedback is always appreciated!

PAIRING: Harry x High-School-Best-Friend!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry has thought of seeing you again so many times in the past months, he imagined this moment when he lied in bed, counting the days until he meets you again after all this time, but seeing you in real life is nothing like his daydreams. 

You’ve changed so much, yet he can see the version of you he last saw clearly too. Your facial features have matured, your hair is longer than he was expecting, though he only saw pictures of you from the past years. You have a black wrap-around dress on that’s hugging your curves that look absolutely delicious. 

It’s pretty obvious you’ve put on some weight and judging from the way you nervously keep fixing your dress every other second, it’s something you feel insecure about, but Harry cannot take his eyes off you and he forces himself to tame his already wandering thoughts. 

“Dude, close your mouth!” Beckham walks up to Harry, patting his shoulder to snap him out of his trance. 

“Shut up,” he mumbles under his breath, averting his eyes from you, but it only takes a few seconds before his gaze returns.

“Go say hi,” Beckham encourages him, but he shakes his head no.

“Later. I don’t… I don’t think I’m the person she wants to see the most.”

Beckham laughs as he walks away with his beer while Harry returns to his seat that’s not as close to yours as he would want it to be, but at least you’re on opposite sides, so he can keep an eye on you as the dinner finally starts. He can faintly hear your voice over the chatter every time you speak up or laugh at something and he wishes he was part of the conversation as well, sitting next to you instead of sneakily stealing glances.

Sometime after the main course and before the dessert it’s suggested that everyone say a short little summary of what happened to them in the past decade, and the round starts, everyone curiously listening to what their old pals are saying. 

“Um, hi,” Harry chuckles awkwardly when it’s his turn. “Well, I’ve had a pretty busy couple of years,” he grins, making everyone laugh. “I don’t know what I can say that you can’t read online, but let’s pretend you know nothing. So I just published my third solo album not long ago, I’ve been really enjoying experimenting with music on my own, though I loved my time in the band as well. I’m working on new stuff lately and I still have part of the tour coming up. I’m doing good, it’s all good,” he nods to himself before smiling around and giving the word to the next person. 

While he is interested in what everyone has to say, he is mostly looking forward to your turn finally so he can shamelessly stare at you while you talk.

“Hi everyone,” you smile nervously around, squaring your shoulders as attention turns to you. “Um, I don’t really know where to start. I started marketing at college, but I didn’t really like it and I was learning coding at the time so I thought I would start a career in that field. I went to an intense training so now I mostly make websites, but I do other stuff too. Um… I live here in London as most of us do now,” she chuckles, the class sharing her smile. “Nothing… Nothing else to share, really,” she adds in a mumble and looks to her right, signaling that she is done talking, it’s time for the next person.

It wasn’t enough. Harry wants to know more, everything if that’s possible and if it wasn’t for all the people around him, he would stand up and just sit beside you, asking you dozens of questions.

But he has to sit and wait patiently, pretend like you’re not the only one he is interested in the bunch. 

An entire hour passes by before he sees you slip away from the table and out to the back patio. Part of him tells him he shouldn’t follow you, but he just can’t stop himself. He excuses himself from the conversation and heads after you, hoping no one will notice him missing inside.

In the summer time there are tables outside as well with fairy lights creating a cozy mood, but it’s too cold right now to sit outside, so it’s only used by smokers occasionally. When Harry steps out as he slips into his coat he spots you right away in the corner, scrolling on your phone as you’re probably having a break. Even when you were younger, you often told him your social batteries easily run out and those were the times Harry gladly sat outside with you until you felt comfortable enough to go back inside. Seems like not much has changed. 

“Hey,” he breathes out and watches your eyes widen when you realize he came after you.

“H-Hi!” you clear your throat, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

“Having a social break?” he smiles warmly, standing only a few feet away from you.

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

There’s a bit of a pause where you’re not too sure how to act with Harry right next to you and he is stunned as well. There’s so much he wants to say and do, but he doesn’t know how you’d react. He doesn’t know about a lot of things when it comes to you but he is determined to change that. 

“So… how have you been?” he asks at last, the ure to speak up taking over the silence.

“Um, I’m fine. Fine, yeah,” you nod. 

“Do you still work at that civil organization, or…?”

“You know I worked there?” you ask, the surprise is pretty apparent on your face. 

“Of course,” he smiles softly, a blush tinting his cheeks. 

“Uh, I’m not there anymore. I work for a bigger company.”

“But still in marketing?”

“Yes,” you nod. “I can do more designing here on the side, that’s why I switched.”

“You like it?”

“It’s good. But work is work, you know, I was never the kind to be obsessed with my job.”

As you say that you realize he can’t know that, because you weren’t talking by the time you started working. It brings the awkwardness right back and he knows he needs to address some things before moving on.

“Y/N, I hope you know I didn’t… I didn’t want us to eventually stop talking. It’s just that so much happened, all at once and I didn’t take all of it the best way either. I should have focused more on my oldest friendships. I’m sorry, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“It’s fine,” you shake your head with a weak smile. “People have fallouts all the time, it’s natural.”

But it wasn’t supposed to happen to us, Harry wants to say, but he bites his tongue. He shouldn’t bring everything up the first time you see each other.

“But we could start again,” he suggests, holding his breath as he watches your reaction to his words.

“Start again?”

“Yeah. I would… love to catch up with you, hear about everything I missed. Only if you want to tell me about it, of course.”

You stare back at him for way longer than he would have loved it and it convinces him it’s the part where you tell him to fuck off. He wouldn’t be surprised, you haven’t talked in ages and now he is so desperate to reconnect. You have every right not to want him back in your life even if you never had a fight that resulted in the fallout.

He is about to take back what he said, but you finally speak up.

“Okay,” is all you say with a tiny nod. 

He’s shocked, to say the least, even though he was hoping you’d say that. But seeing that small smile on your face is all he needs right now.

“Cool,” he breathes out. The door behind him opens and another guest walks out to have a smoke, making them realize they should probably return to the table. “Look, if you’re free sometime soon, I’m staying until the end of the month. We could have lunch, dinner or even breakfast,” he chuckles. “I would love to see you again and talk. Just the two of us.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

“Cool! Great!” he enthuses, probably more excited than he should be, but it doesn’t matter.

The two of you return to the table soon, no one really noticed that you slipped away, but it leaves Harry with a silly smile on his face that widens every time he looks at you again. Suddenly, he feels like a teenager all over again, he is in that basement with his best mates, just having fun, looking forward to spending some time alone with you.

Your bike rides home together were always his favorites, even the ones when you didn’t exchange a single word. He just loved seeing you by his side, the way you always squinted your eyes when the wind blew harder than usual, how you always checked back at him if he was behind you whenever you were about to cross a road. These are all tiny things that are etched into his memories probably forever.

Sometime towards the end of the evening Bee gathers your little group and asks to talk to you outside. You stand in a circle, everyone eyeing her suspiciously as she tries to hold her smile back, Lucas standing right behind her.

“So, there is something that we would like to share with you guys,” Bee starts and without any time to waste, she pulls out a ring from her pocket and slips it on her finger, holding it up, her grins stretching from ear to ear.

“Oh my God!” Chloe gasps as she realizes what it means. “Congratulations!”

It’s a shock, but not really. Bee and Lucas became an official item sometime before graduation, had a short break during college since Lucas studied abroad and long distance took a toll on them, but they found their way back not long after. Engagement was definitely the next step after they moved together three years ago and adopted a dog just last year.

But still, it’s shocking for Harry to see his old pals move on in life together. There’s a pang of jealousy in him too, but it’s overruled by the happiness.

There’s a round of hugs and congratulations before Bee reaches for her purse and pulls out a stack of envelopes.

“We want to invite you all to the wedding that’s gonna be held in June. You guys have been here from the start and it only feels right if you’re there with us on our big day.”

“Man, I might even start crying!” Joshua jokes, but Harry can see the shimmer in his eyes as he takes his invitation.

“Don’t get too mushy,” Lucas chuckles, patting his shoulder. 

Chloe is already talking Bee’s ears off about the wedding and offers to help with basically anything, while you’re examining the invitation card with a soft smile on your lips.

Harry’s excitement runs even higher when he realizes it’s gonna be another occasion where he’ll see you, though he plans to meet a few more times until June.

The night stretches long, it’s way past midnight when the last guests get ready to leave. Harry has been keeping an eye on you all evening in case you wanted to slip out, but you stayed until the end and he doesn’t hesitate to take this opportunity.

“Do you have a ride home?” he asks, when you’re putting your coat on.

“Um, I’ll just call an Uber or something.”

“We can share, I already called one.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

In front of the building everyone says their goodbye, heading their own way and you are left alone with Harry on the curb as the car pulls up.

“So when will you be free for that breakfast slash lunch slash dinner?” he asks, not wanting to miss the chance to see you again.

“I have to check my work schedule, but… I’ll text you, okay?” “Promise?” he arches his eyebrows.

“I promise.”

“Okay. Just so you know, if you ghost me I will come for you.”

“So you’re that desperate?” you chuckle and he just shrugs with a smirk.

“I’m just eager to start over and reconnect with you.”

“I’ll text you, don’t worry. My days are just… a bit hectic lately.”

He wants to ask you about it, would be even better if you just opened up about whatever it is that’s happening in your life, but he’s fine with what he got as well. He doesn’t want to be greedy. 

You make some small talk on the way to your place and when the car comes to a stop Harry is already looking forward to seeing you again. 

“Don’t forget about texting me!” he reminds you again, to which you exhale sharply.

“I actually keep my promises, Harry. Goodnight,” you say before hopping out of the car, leaving him too stunned to speak and the car drives away before he could even react. 

It was like a stab in his chest, your words ring in his head all the way until he arrives home and even after that. 

He pushed too hard. He wanted too much. His nagging was supposed to be just a joke, but apparently, he should have been more careful, because your reaction was sharp and painful. But he deserved it, he knows, because what you said… that was a reminder that he fucked up and he can’t just start all over again so quick and easily.

He wants to go back in time and take the words back, everything was going so well up until that point and now it feels like a setback. While in the shower he is composing a text to apologize for overstepping your boundaries and he is just about to type it out when his phone rings, your name on display. 

“Hi!” he answers, shocked to receive a call from you but also thankful that he can apologize.

“Hey.” Your voice is weak, but a lot lighter than it was in the car when you parted ways. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“No, no, no, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he shakes his head, sitting on the edge of the bed and he wishes he could talk to you in person, see your face.

“It was rude. You’ve been so nice all evening, even asking to reconnect and I was… I was an asshole,” you sigh and he can imagine you closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I kinda deserved it. It’s been long, Y/N, I shouldn’t have expected to just go back to being best friends. I pushed too hard, so if anyone has to be sorry, it should be me.”

There’s a long pause at your end of the call, Harry is dreading to hear your voice and make sure he didn’t fucked up royally.

“I’ve been kind of… moody lately. I should think about my words before talking.”

“Do you… want to talk about it?” he asks, but then realizes that it might be over the line too. “Only if you want to, you don’t have to share anything with me, I totally understand it.”

“Maybe some other time,” you quietly answer and Harry swallows down his greed to know more. “But… I’m free on Friday,” you add and his heart skips a beat.

“Friday is awesome!” he answers without even thinking through his schedule. If he has anything that day, he’ll surely cancel, nothing can be more important than meeting you again. “We could go out for dinner?”

“Can we… Is it possible not to go out?”

“Yeah,” he nods, though his chest tightens. Does this mean you don’t want to be seen out with him? He wouldn’t blame you, it would put you in the spotlight instantly. “Want to come over? I could cook something.”

“That sounds good. See you on Friday, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he manages to say before the call ends.

A week has never felt longer. Every waking moment was spent by counting the days until Harry could finally see you again. He planned out the whole evening the day after the reunion, from the meal to the outfit he would wear, he knew it all by Monday rolled around so he had to spend five days anxiously waiting for Friday. 

On Wednesday he has a few drinks with just the boys, Joshua, Beckham and Lucas, cheering on Lucas’ engagement and having some boytalk. Even though they kept in touch throughout the years, there’s still a lot to share. They are having a great time, lots of laughs and jokes are shared over their beer.

“Alright, I want to talk about something major,” Joshua smirks over his pint, his eyes finding Harry and he already knows it’s gonna be about you.

“Just ask it,” Harry chuckles.

“Can we talk about how you had the heart eyes for Y/N all evening at the reunion?”

“Like a lovesick puppy!” Beckham laughs, patting Harry on the back as he puts up with the teasing.

“It was nice seeing her again, what can I say?” Harry shrugs, but he can’t hold his smirk up, which earns another round of laughter from his friends.

“Oh, it was more than just nice, right?” Lucas grins with a knowing smirk.

“We shouldn’t be surprised though, you were so in love with her back then,” Beck scoffs as he leans back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest.

“Not in love, I was just…” Harry tries to explain himself, but fails.

“Just in love,” Lucas teases him.

“I might have had a crush on her, I admit. But it’s been a long time, we obviously changed a lot. It was great to reunite with her.”

“And you plan to reunite some more with her soon?” Joshua wiggles his eyebrows. 

“We’re actually meeting on Friday.”

“You little minx!” Beckham laughs. “Will you shoot your shot?”

“We literally just met again after almost a decade. There’s no shot to shoot.”

“Yeah, and maybe it’s better if you’re careful,” Lucas nods, but Harry doesn’t really understand what he meant by that.

“Careful?”

“Yeah, I mean, after what she went through…”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Joshua asks, his gaze flickering between Harry and Lucas.

“What? Tell me what it is!”

“She got a divorce not long ago. Like, about a year ago,” Lucas says, keeping his voice down. 

“Huh? I didn’t even know she was married!”

It feels like a punch in the stomach, how he missed such a major event in your life. Not getting an invitation is one thing, but how did you manage to keep it so secret that he didn’t even know you were engaged?

“She kept it pretty low,” Beckham says. “I mean, the divorce and also the whole relationship.”

“Yeah, I didn’t even know about them until she was engaged,” Joshua shakes his head. 

“And what happened? Why did it end?”

Beckham and Joshua shrug their shoulders, but Lucas seems like he knows something. 

“Lucas? If Bee told you something…”

“I don’t know the whole story, okay? But as far as I know… he cheated on her.”

“Oh fuck,” Harry breathes out, his heart sinking instantly. 

“Pretty rough, yeah. But maybe don’t bring it up until she is ready to share it with you.”

“Yeah, sure,” he nods. 

The night carries on and they talk about anything and everything, but Harry’s mind stays stuck on you. To be more precise, your divorce he knew nothing about. It’s no surprise you are so reserved and moody, it must have been hard for you to go through it. He can only hope you had friends to rely on, Chloe or Bee at last if he wasn’t there for you.

Another thing to add to the list of things he should feel horrible about when it comes to you. 

At the end of the night he offers to share a ride with any of the boys and Beckham accepts, so they leave together. 

“I know it’s eating you away,” Beckham speaks up in the car. 

“Huh?”

“That you didn’t know about her divorce.”

“I wasn’t there for her, Beck. I should have been, but I didn’t even know she was engaged!”

“You weren’t talking, you couldn’t have known.”

“Yeah, but it was my fault we weren’t talking. I should have tried harder and… I should have kept my promise I made to her.”

Silence falls over the car as the passing lights illuminate their faces. Beckham is looking at Harry while Harry is staring straight ahead, his jaw jumping. 

“Look, you’ve made mistakes, it’s fine, totally human. If she is willing to meet you again, I’m sure she is not that mad at you, so it’s a good sign. You… Do you… want to, like… date her?”

Harry presses his lips together, thinking of his answer.

“It’s complicated, but… I think I still have feelings for her,” he admits, finally peeking at his friend. “Is that crazy? I mean, we were kids, can I actually still have… feelings for her?”

“Don’t underestimate your younger self. Look at Lucas. He’s been in love with Bee since forever and now they are getting married.”

Harr hums and nods in agreement, but there’s still a lot he needs to get clear in his head. Whatever it is that he feels for you, he wants to explore it but he also needs to be extremely careful now that he knows what you went through. And what if there’s more to it than the cheating? What if the guy did something else too that left you even more scarred? 

He wants answers, but he needs to be patient and give you time. 

Time, he couldn’t give you before.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[winterhawkbigbang]

Winterhawk Big Bang 2024 Rec List

1. Not just a Mask 2. Escaping the Mind of the Winter Soldier (And Setting Yourself Free) 3. Surprise Attraction 4. Spring Dawning 5. love song (for a girl) 6. Soul Mambo Jumbo 7. Every Breath You Take (Scars Edition) Summaries and links to all fanworks below!

1. Not just a Mask by 42donotpanic (Teen And Up Audiences, 28k words)

Summary: When Clint meets yet another person from an online dating site he didn't expect him to change his life as much as Bucky did. Not that he's complaining. The man is just too cute...

* two art pieces by ivvic: [link]

* a lookbook (illustrated guide) with a playlist by daisytarget: [link]

* a podfic by 42donotpanic: [link]

2. Escaping the Mind of the Winter Soldier (And Setting Yourself Free) by Iam_giraffe1123 (Explicit, 28k words)

Summary: When an easy job turns south and Clint is captured and thrown into a cell with a man he didn't think he would ever see. Trying to survive with the conditions they are in. With many years later, another mission turns south and Clint has to guide his way out of his captures clutches and save the one person he always wanted to protect.

* a podfic by 42donotpanic: [link]

* an art piece by kissitbetter: [link]

* an art piece by LaguNerd: [link]

3. Surprise Attraction by ivvic (Mature, 27k words)

Summary: Clint ends up with a baby while working at the circus and is not coping well with single parenthood. Bucky steps in and offers them a place to stay.

* an art piece by c_Art: [link]

* two art pieces by OriginalCeenote: [link #1] [link #2]

* a moodboard by endlesstwanted: [link]

4. Spring Dawning by ArtaxLivs (Explicit, 16k words)

Summary: “Two lovers separated by the light, both an animal and a man in darkness,” Clint easily recited, having heard it hundreds of times over the years, “A woman with no past, running in a life that isn’t her own. A god in exile, unable to trust his own strength. A genius whose mind is lost to a dragon. A leader frozen in time in a lake above the clouds. And the bard with no heart cursed to speak the truth but never know it.” OR - Ladyhawke? I think you meant Winterhawk.

* two art pieces by ivvic: [link]

* an art piece by ruinscollector: [link]

* a lookbook (illustrated guide) by daisytarget: [link]

5. love song (for a girl) by daisytarget (Explicit, 39k words)

Summary: Jamie Barnes is a competent sort of woman. She does her therapy, she cooks her meals, she stabs her own enemies. She doesn't need much in the world, because her independence is her greatest treasure. And then she meets Cat Barton, all sweet smiles and butch build and slow drawl and helpful instincts, and all that kind of goes out the window, because while she doesn't need, she certainly wants. She really wants. Cat Barton has no idea what's coming to her, stuck on the prettiest lady she's ever seen who makes her feel - well, not needed, because she'd surely fuck that up. But wanted. Yeah. It makes her, against her life's advice otherwise, really want Jamie Barnes back.

* two anonymous art pieces: [link]

* an art piece by amoredition: [link]

* an art piece by kissitbetter: [link]

6. Soul Mambo Jumbo by ElloPoppet (Teen And Up Audiences, 16k words)

Summary: “Well, to keep it simple, Clint – you know Clint, Barton? – well, I might have accidentally gotten his soul stuck in an Astral Dimension. I could use some help finding him and, ideally, bringing him back.” If Bucky hadn’t lived the lives he’d lived (so many lives in his hundred-plus years), he might have dropped the box of tea in his hands, or let the vortex of confusionconcernshockfearexhaustion that Bruce’s explanation stirred within him show on his face. But he’d had practice at this, at living through moments like these. He placed the box gently on the counter and inhaled deep enough to hurt. “Okay,” he said on the exhale. “And how do we do that?” - Or, Bucky's soul does find Clint's in the Astral Dimension, but the 'bringing him back' part of the mission takes time.

* an art piece by ivvic: [link]

* an art piece by frenchfriedgiraffe: [link]

7. Every Breath You Take (Scars Edition) by Reremouse (Mature, 18k words)

Summary: Scars tell a story about where we’ve been and what we’ve experienced. Soulmates only meet after that life experience has been lived. That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re ready for it. Shortly after the takedown of Project Insight, Steve turns up at the tower with a quieter Bucky looking for a place to recover himself. It’s a solid plan, at least, until Clint walks right into Bucky, triggers their soul bond, and pretty much tosses Steve’s entire Bucky recovery plan out the window. Bucky is probably not ready to further complicate his life with a soulmate, so Clint does the only decent thing and retreats to his apartment in Bed Stuy. Maybe he should have consulted with Bucky first. A story about soulmates, friends in a tower, enemies in tracksuits, Steve looking out for Bucky, Tony looking out for everyone, the Winter Soldier on his own mission, and Clint.

* two art pieces by Rufferto (embedded in the fic)

* an art piece by Wyxan (embedded in the fic)

* an art piece by kissitbetter (embedded in the fic)

[bumblingbabooshka]

The ages of Tuvok's children (and Tuvok himself) are nebulous and change depending on the episode (Ex: Janeway says he's almost one hundred[1] but later Tuvok implies he's over one hundred[2].)

Sek is Tuvok's oldest child, described as "a mature teenager" and seems to be in college during 'Repression'. He speaks about changing his major from exo-linguistics to musical composition. However in 'Hunters' Tuvok is given a letter which says Sek has both undergone the pon farr and become a father. This episode takes place in season 4 - yet in season 7 when we see him, Sek is a college aged teenager. Asil is Tuvok's youngest and while in 'Once Upon a Time' he seems to portray her as a small child still in need of guidance (akin to Naomi) - Janeway says in 'Fury' that she was present at Asil's kolinahr ceremony which would imply to me that she's been an adult for a long while. This would match up with the fact that in 'Lineage' Tuvok tells Tom Paris that his parenting skills are "somewhat dormant" since it's been "many years since [his] children were young." (Notably he does not say 'since I've seen them' implying to me that even before canon they were all adults) However it contradicts Sek's apparent age in 'Repression'. If Sek is a college aged teenager (17 at the youngest, 19 at the most) he would have been 10 or 12 years old when Tuvok left as 'Lineage' takes place in season 7 and he is Tuvok's OLDEST. Though I guess it depends on what Tuvok considers 'young children' and how close in age his children are. [1] Fury: "So, not long until you hit the big three digits huh?" <- It's possible that Janeway got the date correct but his exact age wrong (ex: right month and day but incorrect year)

[2] Meld: "I have studied violence for over one hundred years" <- It's likely Tuvok is speaking more theoretically. To be born Vulcan is to 'study' violence but he still places his age at 100+. [3] In 'Flashback' Tuvok and Janeway are brought back to an approximately 80-year-old memory in which he was around 30 (I think he says 29) and Janeway says he left Starfleet for 'over fifty years'. He himself states that he studied the Kolinahr for six years then married T'Pel. So: At 30 he was an ensign then he left Starfleet. He married T'Pel at 36. As of season 1 he considers himself married to T'Pel for 67 years meaning he's around 103 at the time of 'Ex Post Facto' However, Asil is established to have been conceived during Tuvok's 11th pon farr. ('Alice' - this information is dubious since it comes from Tom Paris in a sequence where he and Harry incorrectly guess Tuvok's age) If he had his first at 36 that would mean she was born when he was 113. Tuvok states in Unimatrix Zero that he was born on the Stardate 38774. I don't know enough about Stardates to do anything with this information. I googled around and it seems Voyager begins at stardate 48315.6 which other sources say is 2371. There's no point to this post - I just like Tuvok and so I gather information about him to show my devotion. At some point in his past he fucked up his elbow so bad that they had to replace the joint with a prosthetic. Did you know that? It's established in 'Blood Fever'.

[offside-the-lines]

tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier | Ep 2. Winter

This is a completed series! Read Full Fic | 🧸 Series Cover Page/Masterlist 🧁 | 🎵 Playlist 🎶 << Previous Episode || Ep 2 || Next Episode >>

Chapter Summary: Tito injures his wrist in the first game of 2024, he’s out for 6-8 weeks and then his car breaks down. He thinks maybe he’s cursed. Evie becomes a shoulder to lean on. Barzy gets suspicious.

A/N: You can refer to cover page for the series summary, author's notes, tropes, general warnings and other fun tidbits. This series contains mature themes. Minors DNI. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team.

Word count: 4.4k // 44.5k

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I. Winter

Evie — December 31

In the past few days, her text chain with Tito has settled into a nice rhythm. At first, it was a couple of texts a day: when one of them saw a funny Instagram post or reel, they would send it to the other. 

Things changed on Friday when she broke her usual routine of curling up on her couch with a blanket and book and instead found herself watching Tito's game. Her book lay untouched in her lap as her eyes tracked number 91 across the ice. After the game, she stayed up later than she meant to, eagerly picking up her phone every time it vibrated with a new text from Tito.

So, she concluded, I watch hockey now.

Which is why Evie ends up being late for the New Year’s party that Kelsey had invited her to. She couldn’t bear to leave when she had planned to, watching as the score kept ratcheting up for the wrong team. Her stomach curled every time Tito’s frustrated face is shown. 

To Tito 🌞🏒: i’m sorry about the loss, tito. fucking sucks. i hope you’ll still try to enjoy your new year’s eve?

By the time she gets to the party, she’s glad she can slip in among the partygoers without much fuss; everyone’s already a little tipsy on champagne. She knows she keeps pulling out her phone to check her notifications, but she can only hope she doesn't seem too rude.

It’s almost 11:30 pm when her phone buzzes, and she’s surprised to see it’s an incoming call and not a text. She slips out to the balcony as she connects the call.

Tito’s voice comes through too loud, “Evie!”

She laughs, “Hi, Tito. You good?”

“Yeah, you said I should enjoy my New Year’s Eve, so I went out with some of the guys,” he says, his words slurring ever so slightly. Evie can hear the background noise dim through the phone as if he had also stepped outside.

“New Year’s Eve in Dallas; you living it up?”

He laughs, “Dickie’s taken us to some fancy bar he used to go to. There’s a bunch of the Stars guys here too. Not that I really want to see them right now,” he groans.

“God, yeah. I saw, I’m sorry. That was a rough way to end the year.”

“Yeah, well…” He clears his throat and tries to inject some levity into his voice, “I don’t want to think about that right now. We’re trying to have fun, right? What're you up to?”

“Kelsey— my coworker— she’s also friends with Leanne— she invited me to a party. I’m at someone’s penthouse apartment. I have no idea whose. It’s pretty cool, though— Great view. There’s a lot of people, actually.”

Tito whistles. “A lot of choices for a midnight kiss then, eh?”

“I guess?” she laughs. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not that much,” he says unconvincingly. Evie can picture him scrunching his face at his own blatant lie.

“Okay,” she laughs, “I’ll have to let you go back then. Get some more champagne in you.”

“Nah,” he whines a little. “No midnight kisses in there. Fuck! I’m going to be even more unlucky next year if I don’t get a kiss.”

It startles a laugh out of her. “Anthony, buddy, I don’t think that’s a thing,” she chuckles, shaking her head.

He hums and doesn’t say anything else.

“Are you making friends at least?” she asks.

“Eh… more like passing time. A party’s a party, right?” 

“Come on, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“They’re not!” he says a little too loud before repeating himself, “They’re not bad. That isn't what I meant. I just… I don’t know. I don’t really know if we’re friends, so much, just teammates.”

Evie softens. “Jason and Alandra were nice. They seemed to be trying to be your friend, at least. I bet he had to drag you out tonight.” 

“Yeah, he’s cool. It’s just—” He groans. “I think we’re both a little too drunk to try to figure out the difference between a buddy in the league who I’ll spend a couple of months playing with and will almost never talk to again and a friend.”

Leanne catches her eye through the glass and raises an eyebrow in question. Evie sends a small smile back. 

“It’s tough, Tito, to move around. I’m sorry this year has been so fucked for you as well.” She sighs. “Listen, I gotta get back inside. Leanne's making weird faces at me. And you should go back inside, too.”

She hears Tito suck in a shallow breath, voice once again full of false cheer, “Of course, of course. Shit, sorry for being a fucking downer. I promise I’ll go back inside and have a good time.”

“Have fun, dude. You’re a hot professional athlete at a fancy bar on New Year’s Eve. I think you’re not going to have any trouble finding someone to kiss at midnight.”

“You think I’m hot?” his voice genuinely lightens; she could hear the smile lighting up his face.

“Goodnight, Tito,” she laughs pointedly, “Happy New Year.”

She hears him finally let out another genuine laugh, a sound that warms her despite the cold Chicago air, “Happy New Year, Evie. I’m really glad we reconnected last week. It’s nice to have a friend in the city.”

And with that, they hang up, and she slips back into the throng of party-goers. She doesn’t get far before Leanne catches her elbow.

“What was that?” Leanne asks, handing over a new champagne glass.

“Oh. It was Tito.”

Leanne’s eyebrows immediately jump. “Oh yeah? You guys are calling now?”

“I mean, I guess? That’s the first time we’ve called so,” she shrugs.

“Mhmm,” Leanne hums, clearly unconvinced, a smirk lacing her lips.

Evie bumps her shoulder. “Oh, shut up. His team just lost 8-1 on New Year’s Eve. It fucking sucked. Cut him some slack.”

“Yikes. Okay, in the spirit of the season, I’ll let it slide just this once.”

Evie laughs and rolls her eyes, letting herself relax into the drink and the rhythm of the people celebrating around her.

Evie — January 2

To Tito 🌞🏒: shit, just saw the hit. are you okay?!!

Evie sits on her couch and stares at her silent phone, her knee bouncing. She hasn’t been able to sit still since she saw the hit, and it just got worse with each replay, so she turned her TV off. But now, she's just sitting in unsettling silence— I’m not entirely sure that this is better.

She checks her phone again. It has been 15 minutes since she watched Tito skate himself off the ice, clutching his left arm. She calms herself with the thought that his silence doesn’t mean there’s something very wrong; if they were running tests, it might just take a while before he sees his phone. 

She decides to make a cup of tea and pick up her book again. It makes her feel a little settled, but not enough, as she’s still checking her phone every few seconds. If she’s honest, she's just reading the same page over and over.

Finally, an hour later, her phone lights up, and she picks it up so fast it almost flies out of her hand.

Tito 🌞🏒: doc says it’s probably broken. they’ve immobilized it but i have to come home for more tests.

“Shit,” she says to her empty apartment, hitting Dial on her phone. She fiddles with a loose thread on her shorts as the call tone rings before she finally hears the click of Tito picking up.

“Tito,” she says too loud, leaping up from her couch. Her book crashes to the floor, startling her; she sits back down in embarrassment.

“Hey,” his voice sounds tired.

“Hey,” she responds, voice gentler, “Shit, I’m so sorry about your wrist, Tito.”

He sighs, “Yeah. It was so fucking stupid. I shouldn’t’ve had my hand like that there.”

“Hey! Dude, no. This is not your fault. And maybe it’s not the other guy's fault, either. But it’s definitely not your fault. How many times have you done the exact same thing and not been hurt? It’s not your fault.”

Tito’s silent for a bit; she listens to the jagged ins and outs of this breath. Eventually, with a voice so quiet, she’s only able to hear him due to the utter silence in her apartment: “Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

She feels a lump form in her throat and tries to clear it away. “You said they’re sending you home?”

“Yeah. It’s definitely broken, so I won’t be playing for a while. It’s probably too late for a flight tonight, so I’m probably going to be on an early one tomorrow.”

They're both silent for a moment, letting that hang in the air.

“Can I pick you up from the airport?”

“You really don’t have to do that. The team’ll pay for a Lyft.”

“Are you going to be on pain meds?”

“Yeah. I’m already feeling it, to be honest,” Tito says with a light laugh.

“Are they sending you back alone?”

“Yeah, it isn't a concussion, so I don’t need supervision.”

“Okay. Then, I would like to pick you up if that’s okay.”

“I—” He pauses for a long time, breaths getting heavier. When he continues talking, his voice comes through thick, “I really don’t want to put you out, but if you’re offering, I would really like that.”

“Well, I'm offering, so I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me the deets?”

“Yeah.” She feels something in her chest loosen. “And Evie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She chuckles, “No problem. Text me. And try to have a good sleep.”

“You too,” he whispers, pausing before hanging up.

Putting her phone down on the coffee table, she lets out a shaky breath.

Evie — January 3

“Are you sure you want me to drop you off at yours?” Evie asks, looking over to Tito in her passenger seat. His curls poke out under the hood of his sweater, and his skin looks pale and clammy. His usually bright blue eyes are dulled, shadowy smudges betraying his lack of sleep. 

He sends her a soft smile before closing his eyes and leaning back against the headrest. “Yes, please.” His voice sounded as tired as he looked.

“Okay.” 

Evie reaches over and gives his good hand a light squeeze before pulling away from the airport. She keeps the drive to his apartment quiet, and she's surprised that she feels less tense than on her drive to O’Hare despite the silence. 

Every so often, she peeks over at Tito, cradling his wrist, eyes closed, and face carefully neutral. She doesn’t feel good about leaving him alone in his apartment, but she also knows that they haven’t known each other long enough for her to insist.

Half an hour later, she pulls into the entrance of a very fancy-looking apartment building in the center of Downtown Chicago. The doorman helps them unload Tito’s suitcase and drags it into the lobby for him. 

Too soon, they're left standing at the curb.

“Thank you so much,” Tito says, his tired eyes warming a little as he regards her.

“It’s absolutely no problem. Please let me know if you need any help, okay? I make my own hours and work from home for a reason. Call me anytime.”

His smile broadens. “Seriously, Evie. Thank you. You didn’t have to come get me.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

Tito leans in for a hug that Evie reciprocates, careful to avoid his broken hand. They stay connected for a few seconds longer than normal, but neither complains.

“Alright, I’ll leave you be then,” Evie says after they disconnect, stepping into her car with a nod.

Tito remains at the curb, one hand in a sling, the other reaching up for a wave as she pulls away. His figure stays in her rearview until she turns the corner.

Tito — January 11

The days that follow the injury become monotonous quickly. Tito wakes up. He does his morning routine. He takes his pain meds. He rides with Foligno and Bedard into the training facility. He gets poked at by some doctors and told to not do anything with his hand. He rides the bike by himself while everyone else gets to skate. He avoids Bedsy angrily pouting in the hallways; not his rookie, not his problem. He goes home and sits on his couch, just clicking play on whatever comes up on Netflix. He eats his microwavable frozen meal plan. He watches the team drop three of four games. He sleeps. 

Rinse and repeat. 

It has only been a week, and he's close to losing his mind already. The only bright spots are his ongoing text conversation with Evie, and his daily FaceTime calls with Barz. The boxes still sit unopened in the corner; well, at least he has a good excuse now. 

Today was meant to be a break in the monotony. While the team is on a short road trip, Tito’s schedule is a little different. No one ever talks about how uncomfortable it is to drive with a broken wrist. The facility is only 15 minutes away, so he figures that he’ll go in to see the trainers and maybe do some grocery shopping afterward. 

The plan was going quite well until he noticed that he had a flat tire on his way to the grocery store. 

He pulls over to the side of the road and just sits there for a minute, fighting the urge to cry. He rests his forehead on the steering wheel, letting out a small scream before he gets out to assess the damage. He mutters a few choice swears when he eventually finds the big nail in his tire. 

He pulls out his phone and texts Evie while he returns to the driver's seat.

To evie 🧁: i told you my year would be unlucky [attachment: photo of his flat tire]

He starts looking for the roadside assistance card, but since it's a new rental, he’s still frustratedly fumbling around when his phone rings.

“Hello?” he answers, not even looking at his phone.

“Tito, what’s going on?”

He pauses his rustling, surprised to hear Evie’s warm voice pouring through the sound system. The familiarity of the French immediately relaxes him. He sighs.

“Oh, um. I was driving to the store. And I just realized the tire was flat. I think the hole has been there for a while, but because of the wrist and stuff, I hadn’t driven since before the roadie.”

“Shit. That’s annoying. Where are you? You wanna drop me a pin or something. I can help you change your tire; you definitely can’t do it with a broken wrist.”

He pauses, surprised by the offer. “Oh! Um… I was just going to call roadside assistance. If I can just find the card…”

“Don’t be stupid. That’s gonna take ages. If you’re close by, I can come help.”

“Um… Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” she huffs, “I could use a break from the computer anyway. I’ll grab my coat and keys.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’m probably not far away because I just left the training center like 5 minutes ago.”

“Sweet, no problem. Drop me a pin, and I’ll be right there.”

In less than 10 minutes, Evie is stepping out of her car in her wool coat, leather gloves, and an oversized winter scarf that cocoons her up to her nose. She smiles and waves as she jogs over to give him a tight hug. Whatever tension was left in his body from the long week drains from his body as her arms wrap tightly around him. 

They remain connected for a few seconds, his face buried in the mess of scarf and hair around her neck; her perfume fills his lungs with warmth despite the cold Chicago winter air.

“Thanks again for coming.”

“Stop thanking me. My god.” She exaggeratedly rolls her eyes as they finally separate. She starts getting all the tools as she says, “I want to help the city’s best winger. It’s a public service. I’ll forward the bill to the owner. Or maybe even the mayor.”

It startles a laugh out of him, relaxed by her light-heartedness. He realizes that he has been kind of down recently, only leaving his apartment for meetings with trainers. 

“Well, I hope you’ll charge them a fair rate, considering the express service surcharge. You did get here very quickly.”

She nods mock-sternly, “Yes, of course.”

With all the necessary tools laid out next to her, she bends down to begin jacking up the car. He fishes out his snow jacket from the trunk and hands it to her. 

“Here. So you don’t have to kneel on the ground.”

She smiles up at him from where she’s knelt, “Thanks.”

The rest of the tire change happens in silence; Tito’s content to let her focus on what she’s doing. He watches intently and doesn't want to acknowledge his embarrassment that, at 26 years old, he still doesn't know how to change a tire. 

As she’s working, it starts to snow lightly. The flakes stand out against her glossy coffee-dark hair that has fallen to curtain her face, and Tito resists the urge to brush it back so she can see better in the overcast dimness. He stuffs his hands in his pockets to have something to do with them.

When she’s done a short while later, she spins around, still kneeling, beaming up at him with pride as she sings, “Voila!” 

At that moment, as she sparkles up at him, their eyes meet, and a snowflake catches on her eyelashes. It hits him square in the chest; this might be the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. The realization knocks into him so unexpectedly that he has to fight through the tightness in his throat to exclaim back in excitement.

“Awesome!” he strains.

“Yep!” Her voice is bright and melodic as she turns back to lower the car. “It’s all done. You’re going to need to get this tire patched or something at a shop, though, and—”

She continues to explain some important details that are totally lost on him as he tries to quash the twisting of his guts. She is indeed beautiful, engaging, and scarily competent, but none of that matters. 

None of that matters because his stay in Chicago is temporary. So he takes that feeling and shoves it down deep. But, he hopes that a transient athlete who is, as it turns out, not very good at his job will adequately fulfill the role of Good Friend.

Being a good friend is something he can do. 

Being a good friend is something he’s good at.

“— groceries for dinner, if you want?” 

He tunes back in just in time to catch the end of what she's saying. Maybe he should also retract the previous statement about being a good friend.

“Um, I’m sorry. I’m feeling kinda out of it. What was the question?”

She laughs and squeezes his elbow sympathetically. “Tito, it’s okay. You’re kinda pale right now. Like, you look like you’re gonna be sick. Look, I know you said you were going to the grocery store, but I really don’t think you should be driving and stuff right now. I’ve got plenty of food at mine. I was probably going to cook pasta or something tonight. Just come over and hang out? It’ll make me feel better.”

He mulls it over, and the dull throbbing in his wrist convinces him to nod. It does sound much better than what he had been doing this past week.

So they do just that. Tito isn't complaining: not about the delicious home-cooked meal or watching B99 again. He didn’t realize he was waiting to watch it with her. They find themselves pausing the show numerous times just to chat about something the show brings up: a memory from childhood, something from her life in Toronto or his life in New York, or just a passionate opinion that they have. 

He's burrowed deep into the opposite end of her couch with the latest cup of tea she has made him, feeling more at home than he has in over a month when he discovers the time is so much later than he thought.

“Oh crap, it’s past 10 pm. I really should get going,” Tito says, finally sitting up.

“Shit, I didn’t even see that,” she laughs. Evie looks out the window. “You know. It’s really late, you’re on pain meds, and the roads look kinda slippery with the new snow. Why don’t you just stay here? This couch actually has a really comfy pull-out bed— my brother Will said so anyway when he visited.”

“Oh,” he pauses, comfortable and heavy-limbed but uncertain, “I don’t really have anything with me.”

“That should be okay. I’ve got a bunch of extra toiletries and some of Brandy and Will’s clothes.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, if that’s really okay with you, I’d love to not have to drive home with my wrist. It sucks.”

“Of course,” she smiles, reaching over and squeezing his knee before standing up and walking into her bedroom.

He figures he should help, so he moves the warm fuzzy blanket she had over her legs and the throw pillows to the corner of the room. He clears the tea mugs that litter the coffee table before pushing it back. He’s inspecting the couch for the pull-out function when Evie returns with a small pile of sheets and clothes and a few pillows.

“Oh, thanks for clearing the space!” She smiles at him brightly. “So, I found you a T-shirt and some sweatpants. There are spare toiletries under the sink.”

“Thanks. You’re truly the best.”

“You are so right,” she winks, laughing softly. 

They put together the couch-bed in tandem, and both take turns getting ready for sleep. Eventually, Evie, in her pajamas, bids him goodnight warmly before shutting her bedroom door, and he's left lying on the pull-out bed looking around at the living room, lit only by the city lights streaming through with big windows. 

Tito — January 19

“Wait, so you’re telling me you’ve been replacing me with this girl, and you haven’t even bothered to introduce us?”

“Okay, Barz, that’s a little dramatic. I have not been replacing you.” Tito desperately pleads with his eyes for Mat to stop talking so loud in this somewhat nice Italian restaurant he and Evie had discovered a few nights ago.

“No, seriously. Why didn’t you invite her? You should invite her. You know what? I’ll do it. Hand me your phone—” Mat makes a desperate grab for Tito’s phone that was sitting face down on the table. 

Tito puts his hand on it and whispers. “Dude, stop it. I’d like to come back here again sometime. The food’s actually so good.”

Mat grins and wiggles his eyebrows, “Oooh, come back here again, like on a date with Evie?” he says, dragging out her name in a suggestive tone.

“No, Barz. Not a date. We’ve been over this. We’re just hanging out- like you and me. We’re friends. That’s it. Neither of us even wants to date right now anyway.”

“Okay, bud. If you say so.” Mat rolls his eyes while taking a sip of his wine. “So, you’re saying if you were both open to dating, you’d be interested.”

“No— Well—” Tito pauses and sighs. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. And it’s not what’s happening, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, come on, Beau. I’ve known you for ages, dude. There is no way— you’re telling me that you’ve seen her almost every single day, for most of the day, this whole month, and you haven’t even thought about it?”

Tito sighs pointedly, clenching his jaw. “Yes. I haven’t thought about it. Because there’s nothing to think about. We text. We hang out. We watch TV and eat food. We—” He cuts himself off abruptly. He knows if he mentions the sleepovers, even though he's always on the pull-out couch, Mat will take it the wrong way. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I get to see you, like, twice during the season. I want to hear all your dumb stories.”

Mat eyes him skeptically but eventually relents. “My stories aren’t dumb. But okay. So, last week…” he excitedly recounts.

The night returns to a familiar rhythm. He misses this: the easy conversation with a guy who’s known you for ten years. There are no awkward lulls or having to explain a joke or backstory. It’s just comfortable, and it feels like home: a warmth burrowed deep in his chest. 

There’s a gaping vacancy that gnaws at him later when he’s lying in his own bed, unable to sleep. It’s almost as if Mat took that feeling of home with him when he gave him a lingering hug goodbye, squeezing Tito so hard it hurt a little.

He stares at the ceiling and thinks about how his favorite sleep shirt— one of his early Islanders t-shirts with a 72 on it— was still at Evie’s apartment. He also thinks about the hoodie that he left there.

The team's about to head on an extended roadie while he remains behind, doing not much. He hates it when he’s the one left behind watching the team play without him. That’s the thing with professional sports. You’re around a team all day, every day, for most of the year. You know everything about everyone. You’re almost never alone. Which makes it all the more stark when you’re with a new group of faces. Or when you’re suddenly stuck at home, injured, and alone.

He leans over and picks up his phone, the sudden brightness of the screen making him squint. 

To evie 🧁 : hey, so on second thought, if the offer still stands, i’d like to stay over this week? totally okay if you changed your mind. just figured it’d be nice to have some company, and you’re much closer to the rink. To evie 🧁: and you still have my favorite hoodie. i want it back.

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[solei-eclipse]

Explanation time! Starting with Kio because she's easier and TUMBLR POSTED MY DRAFT FOR JIU so I'm redoing that later everyone close your eyes

From top left going down: Chihiro Ogino (Spirited Away), James Henry Hayward (the Iremonger trilogy, Foulsham), Momo (Momo & the Grey Gentlemen)

Top right going down: Mitsuha Miyamizu (Your Name), Hikaru (The Summer Hikaru Died), Mitsuri Kanroji (Demon Slayer)

Chihiro Ogino

So this one is PAINFULLY obvious

naturally she's where Kioku's character originated from, but the funny thing is she's a lot more disconnected from Chihiro than Jiu is to Haku

Most of the main traits still remain. the childish kind of naivety, meeting people she's been told are untrustworthy yet trusting and believing with her heart that they are good inside anyway (this works out for Chihiro, it does not work out for Kioku), stubbornness, general lack of grace, etc

The main reason why Kio seems more separated from Chihiro is because the main thing that inspired me was the idea of Chihiro after walking out the tunnel aka losing her memory

The concept of her disappearing and coming back as this strangely different girl but nobody knows why. She can't even remember herself

Can you imagine losing your whiny scaredy cat daughter for (what you assume is) 2 hours and she comes back hardened with experience and maturity and wtf why is she cleaning now

One of my favorite interpretations of an older Chihiro is that she's into sports! I've seen quite a few variants (track, soccer, lacrosse, softball)

To me, Chihiro would take up sports as a result of her budding work ethic + after all the stunts she pulled in the bathhouse I'd say she's got a head start on the training already (running from a giant No Face as a tiny scrawny 10 year old definitely alters the brain chemistry I think) + it's just a way to further hammer down how changed and developed she is from the child she used to be before. she is literally stronger and more capable now

Kio is pretty much the same in this aspect, with the added bonus of "the mind forgets but the body remembers" as one of the reasons why she likes physical activity so much

Also. Chihiro is absolutely not a parkourist though Kio is LMAO she's just kind of slightly a freak. while Chihiro is just sweet

James Henry Hayward

So onto the more obscure book inspos

James Henry Hayward is a young boy who was previously a bath plug. I realize I have to explain this a little.

In the world of the Iremonger trilogy, there are things called birth objects. They're essentially people turned into objects, and the rich and wealthy Iremonger family connect their souls with these poor objects in order to increase their power/lifespan I believe? It's been a while since I've read it to be honest. They essentially keep these people trapped into objects and carry them around like trophies. If they're too far away from their birth object, they grow ill until they die. A person and their birth object cannot be human at the same time, if their birth object suddenly breaks into human form again, the other person will turn into their birth object. You can imagine the oppressive shit they do to their objects in order to ensure that they stay objects.

James Henry was a bath plug, the birth object of the main character. At the end of the first book, a huge event happens where the main character turns into an object and James Henry is able to become human again

But since he has connections to the main character (who was heir to the rich and wealthy tyrant family), he was kept and locked away in their residence in order to be monitored

The main inspiration I took from James Henry once again has to do with memory.

When James Henry reverts back to a human, he can't remember anything from his past save from a few hazy vignettes and seeing things that shouldn't be there

His general perception of the world is cloudy and unclear because his caretaker feeds him "medicine" that really just serves to cloud his memory more and ensure that he lives in blissful ignorance

The people of the house regularly gaslight him into believing that nothing is wrong and that he grew up in this house, continuously feeding him medicine that makes his head hurt and difficult to think

He keeps seeing things where they shouldn't be and believes that they're remnants of his past memories that are seeping out

They're often distorted though, and usually take the form of strange things, like his sister as a rat inside a cupboard.

James Henry serves as Kio's inspiration in this way, but his caretaker Ada also serves as inspiration for Kio's guardian

Momo

Momo is a mysterious little girl (scrawny, around 10 or below) of unknown origin who just... appears out of nowhere and begins to integrate herself amongst the locals of the town.

When asked about her age, I believed she answered like. 1000+ or something? Once again, it's been a while.

Her origins are never explained, nobody knows where she came from and she doesn't seem to know either.

She's welcomed with open arms, though, and the townsfolk begin warming up to her.

Overall her personality traits are pretty standard heroine stuff, naive, honest, sees good in people (literally, I'll explain in a moment), does her best to help, etc

The main trait I took from Momo was the quality of her eyes.

Momo's eyes are special in the way that anyone who looks into them (which she does when she "listens" to them, her special talent is "listening") will have the good brought out of them. She listens to people's problems, and once they air out their grievances and look into her eyes it's almost like their problems are fixed somehow. She has the power to stop fights, bring creative inspiration and calm the hysterical just by sitting there.

There's a scene where one of the antagonists (a grey gentleman who steals the lifespan of other people) tries to lure her away with toys and such, but she just stares at him and he starts spilling his guts uncontrollably. He tries in vain to stop it but he ends up spouting secrets and the true motives of his company and junk and it's just an insane scene because all she's doing is standing there and this grown businessman alien is scared shitless of her.

NATURALLY THIS IS AN INSANELY OVERPOWERED ABILITY (to me). even more crazy how it seems like momo doesn't even know she has it

So I made sure Kio didn't have that EXACT ability because Lord knows the kind of secrets these s40 kids are carrying around.

I mentioned before in the introduction post, but Kio has a very open face and disarming eyes. They're not as overpowering as Momo's, just enough to make anyone with bad intent or a severe secret feel strangely uncomfortable. They're rather warm to everyone else.

Despite this, there's one person that her eyes have the full Momo effect™ on, and I think you can guess who.

(there's a reason he doesn't look into her eyes)

Mitsuha Miyamizu (Taki Tachibana?)

Honestly not much on Mitsuha herself, but rather Taki when he inhabits Mitsuha's body

It's noticeable that whenever Taki is in control, Mitsuha's hair is in a ponytail instead of its usual intricate braid. This is because he doesn't know how to do it like she does.

That's Kio to me. All she can do is a ponytail.

Taki-Mitusha is also much more sporty and bold than the real Mitsuha!

I can imagine Kio in that scene where Taki-Mitsuha plays basketball. That was a scene I found really fun lol

Honestly that basketball scene is the only reason. I don't really know why I gave her a spot here........

Hikaru

:)

Mitsuri Kanroji

Just for the general energetic vibes, clumsy nature and genuine spirit

Also the fact that Mitsuri is abnormally strong and her body composition is bizarre.

She's very athletic and agile, very fast-moving.

Kio would be less on the flexibility aspect and more on the running and jumping stuff, though (parkour!!)

Mitsuri is kind of a huge dork who messes up frequently and is pretty clumsy, which are traits that Kio has

But she's also an incredibly hard worker and creates her own way out of a given thing or situation, opting to keep her hopes up even if she cries about it sometimes (similar to Chihiro)

Kio's mannerisms are also quite similar, especially the scene where she tries and fails to explain something to the Master and embarrassedly says "I'm so sorry. I'm going to go die in a hole now." while groveling.

The reaction that Iguro has to her explanation is also very Jiu coded HAHAHA

[nopeferatu]

saw you post a lot of brokeback mountain content so i want to know if you have a list of your favorite brokeback mountain fanfic :)

I do post a lot abt Brokeback Mountain, but I've never actually sat down and made a formal, ranked list of all the Brokeback fics I love?? I have a collection on ao3 called "My Favorite Fanfics" which is where I put fics that I like beyond a simple bookmark, and there are more BBM fics in there than any other fandom I've read for haha. Unfortunately, this list isn't actually comprehensive as there are many that were either exclusively posted to the old BBM LiveJournal groups, or they were posted to LJ then later deleted and are now word documents that get passed around by email.

If I were to rank my fave BBM fics in a top 10 list, it'd look like this:

10. Once Upon a Time by rhye

A happy-ending ranch AU composed of short chapters based on fairy tale themes. As in fairy tales, some plot elements may be far-fetched, the angst runs deep, there is fluff, and they all lived happily ever after.

9. Life Ain't Easy by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)

Jack convinces Ennis to come work on the Twist Ranch after they leave Brokeback Mountain, but life ain’t easy.

8. Come Hell or High Water by Just_K

Ennis Del Mar makes the decision to leave his simple life behind and follow the brazen Jack Twist across the state of Wyoming. With life in Texas heavy on their mind, the two come to realize that dreaming big comes with a price. Will they be able to hold together when the past threatens to tear them apart, or does love truly conquer all?

7. A Place to Hide by Way2

A possible portrait of Jack's relationship with Lureen during the years prior to his reunion with Ennis.

6. it could get easier (if you want it to) by biblionerd07

Ennis decides he has more to say after their fight at the trailhead, so he makes a phone call. And it changes his life.

5. A Various Language by Destina

This is the happy ending they deserved.

4. The Sky Above by mediumorange

August, 1983. Ennis’ postcard to Jack has come back stamped ‘Return to Sender.’ He finds Jack in Lightning Flat, determined to help his father save the failing Twist ranch. His father does not want to be saved.

3. Roots by 271horses

This story tells the complete life story of Earl and Rich. It follows them from deprived childhoods, through the maturation process, the events that bring them together, and the deep, abiding love that grows between them.

Unfortunately I can't link this one as it lives in a word doc, getting passed around from email to email after 271horses purged his LJ acc. It's fantastic, tho! A lot of users on the old Brokeback forums hold it in high regards, as you'll see lots of posts mentioning the great BBM Earl/Rich prequel fic and how good it is.

2. Somebody, Somewhere by mediumorange

If you can't fix it, you've got to stand it. Slowly but surely, Ennis finds a way to stand it.

1. Widower for One Year by 271horses

This story concentrates on what would have become of Ennis after he was left alone trying to deal with the finality of his loss in that beaten up old trailer, still mired in his miserable life.

This one is another one of those that gets passed around through email and I consider it one of the greatest tragedies of the fandom bc it is, no joke, the BEST fic I have ever read in my god damned life, but it was never finished. 271horses purged his LJ acc before finishing it. I actually stopped reading once I got close to the end bc I don't want to deal with the fact that it will never be completed, so for me to confidently call it the best fic ever without actually having finished it says a lot.

[jigglypuff1994]

6 months ago 

REMEMBERING ADRIEN AGRESTE

Written by Alya Lahiffe

Paris is bleak this morning as it has lost one of its rays of sunshine. 

Growing up, it was hard to miss his iconic blonde locks and bright green eyes displayed on billboards, posters and magazines across Paris. His easy-going smile lit up our moods on every street. Radiant, carefree and dreamy. We watched as this young teen heart throb matured into one of Paris’ most successful business leaders, even turning around a company who many thought would never survive after the fall of its founder. 

While our sunshine boy had the image of a perfect life in later years, we know that Adrien’s life was anything but. His private struggles became publicized once his father was revealed as HawkMoth, Paris’ notorious villain. 

And as Adrien’s world crumbled into darkness, Parisians waited on bated breath, scrutinizing him to see if he would follow in his father's footsteps. However, as we watched, we quickly found that villainy was not in Adrien’s nature, and that not one part of his heart could be tainted. 

Adrien was shocked by the revelation, and rather than cowering, he promised us that his father’s misdeeds would be righted. He wanted to give back to us, Paris, as a form of an apology. An apology and a personal struggle that he shouldn’t have been burdened with in the first place. 

Adrien did something many of us, including this reporter, would struggle with. He ensured his father would be locked away for the rest of his life. By testifying against the former villain, alongside the Miraculous heroes, he helped seal his father’s fate and sent him to federal prison for one hundred years and one year added for every victim who Hawkmoth took advantage of. I think it takes someone with unyielding strength and bravery to do something like that, and we are grateful for Adrien’s personal sacrifice. 

As an act of goodwill, he set up a fund to help the past akuma victims, and often visited and spoke with them, helping in any way he could. Naturally, a giver. 

Then there was the question of Gabriel's company. What should happen to this company with a brand logo of a butterfly, the symbol of terror? While many investors had doubts and concerns of upholding favor for the image of supporting the villainous actions of one Mr. Gabriel Agreste, his son decided that moving forward was the best course of action. He assured that a new face and a new direction was what was needed for the future of the company. 

Just as Adrien had to atone for his father’s mistakes, he begrudgingly took hold of his father's company, Gabriel . Rebranding it under the new name, Miraculous , he led the company through unprecedented times. By restructuring the company’s five-year plan, he announced the new ideologies in which the newly labeled brand would practice. No longer a butterfly, but a rising sun, symbolizing hope and a brighter future. 

In order to jumpstart the new reform, Adrien looked to one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, an up and coming designer, who had a vision surpassing many of her peers. Perhaps this is why Mr. Agreste had chosen his fiance as his Creative Director for a fresh, new spin on the Miraculous line. With her known industry name and already successful business, MDC , adding her to the company’s leadership and absorbing the successful brand under one roof was a brilliant choice to help secure Miraculous’ future. With Adrien’s business background and Marinette’s creative prowess, this power couple quickly dominated the Parisian fashion market. 

According to a statement made on Friday by the Miraculous corporation, “We are shocked and profoundly saddened by the sudden passing of Adrien Agreste,” said Nathalie Sancoeur, the company’s executive chairman, in a recent statement addressing the sudden turn of events. “Adrien was a brilliant and humble leader who cared deeply for his colleagues, his family and his community.” 

However, this journalist knows that Adrien was more than the CEO of a fashion industry powerhouse and more than a villain's son. 

Adrien was dedicated to his friends, which led to other notable successes. It was his word of mouth that helped jumpstart our mutual friend, Rose Lavillant, to start her charity, Cheer starts with C , helping terminal children not only in Paris, but throughout the world, spreading kindness and cheer to those who need it most. It was Adrien’s influence that helped popular artist, DJ Terrapin, my husband Nino Lahiffe, reach millions of followers, soaring him to unimaginable heights early in his career. It was Adrien’s guidance that helped Juleka Couffaine achieve her dreams of becoming a world-renowned supermodel and headlining Miraculous’ new vision, giving the unique brand's edgy look, and helping to separate it from the older, stuffy collections of its predecessor. It was Adrien’s financial backing that helped Max Kante, leading AI scientist, to help create the technological giant, Gravity , which rivals Amazon, Apple and Google in sales and quality. I could go on further as the list seems to never end when it comes to Adrien’s generosity. His kindness assisted so many in their time of need. And most importantly, he did all this without asking for anything in return. 

I wish he was here to read and see all the wonderful things we as a community have to say about him. I wish he knew how he inspired so many young men and women, including myself. Adrien was a humble soul and never understood the depths in which his caring nature touched all those around him. His drive, his wit, his humor, his honesty, his courage - all notable traits that barely scratch the surface of who he was. 

I will remember him as a loving father, a devoted husband, a fiercely loyal friend, and more importantly, our everyday hero. Survived by his three children, Louis, Hugo and Emma, and his wife, Marinette, I can only hope that his vibrant, endearing spirit will live on vicariously through them. 

Paris, let us not grieve, but remember the bright light Adrien cast upon this beautiful city of love in his short-lived life. His life’s work is a gratitude none of us could ever repay. I had the pleasure of knowing him personally as a friend, and I will grieve alongside you as we mourn this great loss together. 

I can only hope that Adrien Agreste knew how much he was loved and will be missed. 

Alya Lahiffe

Lead Staff Reporter

The Parisian Times

----Continue on Link below----

[coldshrugs]

longing's favorite season 🔹 prologue

pairing: io laithe / estinien varlineau rating: general - this is a simple introduction to the concept. later parts will be mature/explicit. word count: 925 additional entries: part 1 🔹 part 2 🔹 stable scene 🔹

Count Edmont De Fortemps has no cause to enter quietly, especially in his own home, yet he is quite good at it. Engrossed as she is in the most interesting part of this grand old house, Io doesn't hear him until a loose floorboard creaks under the weight of his bad leg.

She looks up from the shelf, "Edmont... Good evening. I was just admiring—"

"Yes, of course, Mistress Laithe, admiring..." He steps into the warm light cast by the fireplace; the red and black jewels decorating his coat take on a liquid sheen, like tiny droplets of blood suspended in time. It wouldn't surprise her if they fell to the floor with a splatter. "Exploiting. The difference is a matter of etiquette, is it not?"

What on earth? Io recoils slightly, shaken by his unfamiliar tone. "My lord?"

He waves a dismissive hand and settles heavily into an armchair by the hearth. "Come. Sit with me, then you may return to your admiring momentarily."

She follows him warily. The aura about him bears... not exactly a threat, but something malign. There is a game in process and she does not yet know the rules. With a satisfied smile, Edmont looks her over, sizing up posture and countenance as she sits across from him.

"My son is quite taken with you, Mistress Laithe. For now, in any case."

For now?

He continues. "Just two days past, he fairly begged me to sanction a union between you. He is an idealist—you are not free from his expectations, but if allowed, Haurchefant would live his life as a fairytale. On the other hand, I must be more practical, for the sake of my family and my country."

"Haurchefant wants to marry me?" Io whispers, looking from Edmont to the fire.

Haurchefant's attention has been plain since she stepped foot in Camp Dragonhead nearly a year ago. His warm welcome came with hungry eyes, and he proved an audacious flirt, in a charming sort of way. Charming enough to make a night in his chambers sound enticing once. While the interest and advances were not entirely one-sided and the time they've spent together has occasionally skirted the bounds of romance, Io feels his expectations weigh more heavily than hers can match. He's been a valuable friend and has shown her great kindness many times over. She owes him a great deal—her life and the lives of her friends most of all—but truth be told, they don't know each other very well...

With the Dragonsong War at its end and her name mostly cleared, she thought she might move on. But...

"That is his current whim, aye," Edmont sighs. "I was keen to deny it, of course. Heavens, the difficulty... You, a foreigner in these lands—Viera—with those markings on display, a bow on your back, and blood on your hands. I will hail you as a hero, of course, but I fail to picture you as a lady and wife. But perhaps... perhaps that is exactly what I need at this time."

Io stares into the flames as she listens to him. His hospitality seemed freely given but she cannot help but recall something he said moons ago: 'How quickly we forget the petty nature of men. I'd wager your friends are no more than pawns in another of my countrymen's games. Such is the way of things between the High Houses...'

House Fortemps is no different, she supposes.

Io's stomach turns. She dares to glance at him. The flickering light throws his features into a menacing caricature of the Edmont she's familiar with.

"At his side, and in residence at this estate, you could be the perfect example." He leans forward, looking at her through steepled fingers. "The less open-minded High Houses could learn to see the beauty in truly open borders. What do you think, my dear? You could help propel our fair city into its new age, complete with a life of comfort, free from grief, and you need do no more than you've already done: use my wealth, my resources, and entertain my son. What say you?"

"—daresay it was one of the more awkward sessions of my career. The bride sat beautifully while her soon-to-be husband fidgeted, though I hear he is an energetic man with a racing mind. They did converse during the sitting, as well-acquainted friends; his lordship is a veritable jester and his humor seemed to keep his lady at ease. I had been told they were a love match. Alas, I would liken the flame between them to a bedside candle instead of the roaring fire usually found in the betrothed... "

—Renowned portraitist Duremert, overheard while shopping in the Jeweled Crozier

"Preparations must be hastened, and leave the matter of gil to the Count. Unreasonable as his requests may be, surely we can provide yet another 'Wedding of the Season.' It does make one wonder just why the need for all this fuss and rush, but I digress."

—spied in a letter from Lisette Valentione

"His lordship has tasked me with a new mistress—the Warrior of Light herself! I want to hear all her stories! Although she's not a warrior anymore. She's a lady now, and I'm to look after her in the manor. I think she misses being out there. Can't say I blame her. If it were me, I wouldn't dream of giving up all those adventures to stay in this stuffy old house all day."

—Saulette, in service to House Fortemps, in a letter to her aunt

[absurdthirst]

I need advice. You’ve always steered my right before ♥️

I’m so conflicted. Apologies for the essay but i genuinely don’t know what to do.

So, for context, my brother and his partner split earlier in the year. He was living with my parents for a few months before they split because they were having issues. He basically reverted to a teenager. Couldn’t be bothered to see his kids and just wanted to online game all the time. Fast forward to end of Feb, he has a massive blowout with my family and moves back home. It then later transpired that he had been cheating for months prior to all this and his ex kicked him out.

He now lives with my mum (parents are split) and hasn’t spoken to my dad, my husband or I for months (hubby and I didn’t absolutely nothing wrong). He sent a text the day we had our son (after his ex told him to) but that’s it. Radio silence. Taken zero interest in our son. Doesn’t seem to care about any of us.

My husband and I have always been super supportive and have tried to be as present as we can in his kids lives (we do live 2 hours away). His ex has met the baby. Took several trains to come visit and it took her 3 hours but he still, 2 and a half months on, has not bothered to visit (he can also drive). We met his daughter at a month old and his son was a week old.

Now to what I need advise on.

My mum, who I have a strained relationship with as is for many reasons but mainly because we have never been her priority, has been diagnosed with very early breast cancer.

Its completely treatable and hasn’t spread so honestly the best case scenario… but obviously still stressful. One thing to know about my mum, shes a pathological liar and has always used situations to gain sympathy but she has cried wolf so many times it’s hard to believe her when she is telling the truth. She has lied about having cancer once before. She had a benign tumour removed… then changed her story later to say it was cancerous despite telling us initially it wasn’t. I know it is true this time though, only because a close family friend confirmed it.

However, its her birthday in September and she wants us all get together for lunch. As you can imagine I have very mixed feelings about this. As much as i understand she wants her family together, i don’t particularly want to spend an afternoon with my brother. Before this all happened i had told her that we will go but we won’t bring the baby if my brother doesn’t reach out first. She said she’d have a word with him but he still hasn’t.

She’s now trying to use this situation as a way to manipulate me into getting her way but I feel really strongly about him not being introduced to my baby until he demonstrates that he actually cares about him. I grew up feeling very unwanted by my mum and I don’t want that for my child. So I am still set on trying to get someone to take care of him if he still doesn’t reach out.

Am I being unreasonable here? My husband thinks I should just suck it up but I honestly don’t think he gets how hurt I am 😔

Nope. You aren’t required to bring your baby around a potentially toxic situation.

It sounds like your brother has the emotional maturity of a child and he knows he was wrong and refuses to own up to it. He’s too busy living his life how he sees fit.

Given that he’s had no interest in your family, you have no requirement to bring your baby around him. Your mother sounds great. Like my grandmother and I’ve lived less than 40 minutes from her for the past year and I’ve seen her one time. Only for her to lie about me and I’ve not spoken to her since.

You want to protect your child from the heartaches you lived through. There isn’t anything wrong with that.

Although, anon, I do advise you to perhaps speak to a therapist for the feelings from your childhood and for some tactics to set boundaries with your family and deal with their toxicity.

Congratulations on your baby! 💜

[ricardian-werewolf]

Fanfic Masterlist: Finished Fics:

Rating: Mature Status: FINISHED 5/9/24. Cw/Tws: heavy discussions of mental health, prices of religious trauma and sainthood. Lots of mentions of attempted assassinations by Vasily. Sexual assault mentions, smut in later chapters, graphic depictions of violence, but canon. merzost being used anti-canonically.

Ao3 Link: Masterlist

Stars 'round his wrists.

When I am King, you will be first against the wall.

Take My hand, I'll drown you with me.

But your profile could not hide the fact you knew I was approaching your throne.

The world is lying fallow and you are apart from me.

Holy Water cannot help you now.

Still, I follow the Heartlines on your hand.

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap.

The Cost of the Crown.

I am a world's forgotten boy.

Once More unto the Breach.

The Sun's turning Red.

Everytime I see you falling, I get down on my knees and pray.

True Faith

Just our hands clasped so tight.

****

Non-Grishaverse FINISHED FIC.

Synopsis:

Atlantic City, 1921. Prohibition has come in with a bang, and the bootleggers long to profit off of people’s desire for spirits. But some of their intentions and creations come with nasty consequences. Sometimes, liquor really can kill. And for Nucky Thompson, that’s a gamble he’s willing to take. Even if federal agents are snapping at his heels, and people are dying in the streets, Atlantic City, is after all, the world’s playground.

Chapter list:

Blood stained sheets

The ivory tower

The tin soldier

A Wolf, a man, and a plan

Every little thing she does is madness.

Leave before the sun comes up

Burning for you

Death Race

The darkest hour is before the dawn

Don’t turn your back

Series: Profunda Venae - Deep veins. 

Chronicling a split off of English history during the weeks after Victoria’s coronation, this series explores the What-Ifs of the English Industrial revolution and the idea of vampires being representative of the ruling class. It also dives into the ideas of class revolution, Nuclear Winter, the usage of productive power to control the narrative, and more. It is also mainly a narrative of just how dangerous controlling the reins of who tells history can truly be.

Written during the hardest years of my life, this series was created to be a distraction from the mires and misery of Neurodivergency in a common-education experience.

Book 1 is set in a world much like our own with certain shifts. Book 2 is a world that starts out similar and quickly becomes quite different. Book 3 is a world that is far in the past and far in the future all at once.

Book 1: The Lineaments of Malefaction: [Finished 2022]

Synopsis:

1838 - the house of Hanover and the United Kingdom are at last stable. Queen Victoria has taken to the throne with Lord M at her shoulder as her beloved Prime Minister. However, as always, those left in the shadows squabble and plot.

For what more of a travesty can there be than a sweet queen of 18, and a human one at that?

Wrongs must always be righted, regardless of who is in the way. Sometimes those means are more dastardly than anyone could imagine. As someone once said, family is not stronger than the blood that is spilt on the battlefield of power.

Chapter List, with dates of publication:

Pills and plans (2022-03-11)

Blood in the water (2022-03-12)

A murder of politicians (2022-03-13)

Ballrooms and bites (2022-03-13)

The Revenants of Pemberley (2022-03-17)

Lifting the veil (2022-03-17)

Burning down the castle (2022-03-28)

Shadows, the stars, and you. (2022-03-28)

Oh Noel (2022-04-02)

For the Queen (2022-04-02)

If we burn, you burn with us (2022-04-07)

recovery and revolution (2022-04-07)

Paint it black (2022-04-07)

A wedding and a honeymoon. (2022-04-07)

All that ends well (2022-04-07)

Book 2: The Evils of Darkness: [Finished 2022]

Synopsis:

1848 - the house of Kingsbridge and England have enjoyed 8 years of relative peace and quiet. Victoria and Lord M are at last united in matrimony and state, and those who opposed their rule are defeated or interred. Yet, plans always abound to take down those some see as unpopular.

For vampires aren’t fit to rule humans. Even in a place like Great Britain, wrongs must be righted, and balance must be restored.

No matter the personal cost.

Chapter List:

A bad beginning

Hold tight London

The Threads of eternity.

The War Game

When the wind blows

The Day After

Protect and survive

Operation square leg

Do no harm

Nuclear winter

Babylon

Unfinished FICS:

Book 3: Dum Pugnatur, Bellum Amittitur [ongoing - stagnant updates based on fixation]

Synopsis:

1865 - the thrones of Queen Victoria and King William are lost to the wastelands. The House of Kingsbridge is no more, and in its place, factions plot and squabble to rule the destroyed land once called England.

But that is easier said then done, for England herself is a place of ruin and starvation. For the nuclear winter that ripped the royal family apart has rolled its citizens back to the Middle Ages. But for those who have survived the hell of 1858, there is a new threat on the horizon that may blot out even 1848 - America has been at war with itself for going on 4 years, and there is whispers abounding that the Royal Family may be amongst the evacuees who fled on the steamship, the Kerberos.

All of these whispers and plans within plans make for a perfect firestorm to be set upon England's starving lower classes, for as someone once said: fealty is not stronger than the blood that is spilled on the battlefield of power.

Chapter list:

1. Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent

2. Ravens feathers and Mozart

3. Paternoster Row

4. The Evil Genius of the Republican Party.

5. A Plea To Fate

6. Marian

Fear and Delight, or how I learned to stop worrying and wear gloves to hide my trauma. {ongoing - abandoned until new season comes out and interior worldbuilding kinks are solved}

Synopsis:

* Set During Season 2 of the Gilded Age - does not follow central plot by the beats*. Title taken from Dr Strangelove. ***** The Russell's Newport mansion could be called many things. The New York Times called it “Grandiose - a paragon of modern architecture.” The Post deemed it: “The newly-built mansion is a sign of the shifting tides of New Money upon our cities elite,”. More attention was paid to the ongoing Opera War waged by Bertha Russell and her arch nemesis, Caroline Astor. Astor had the boxes at the Academy of Music and dealt them out like generals awarding medals to soldiers who’d survived a conflict: rarely given and precious to only a few. Bertha Russell had set up the enemy camp with her Metropolitan Opera house (still undergoing building and desperately needing funds), and sought to gain some of the broken backs of the Academy’s patrons. The more soldiers - patrons - Mrs Russell could win over in advance of the Met’s opening, the better. ***** Robber Barons, The Crows, a Princess who is in America to settle an old Score, all for one very mediocre production of Faust.

Chapter list:

Washington Square

Old Money

Abstract: Set in an alternate timeline of the Grishaverse where the country of Ravka very closely resembles the Western Front of the Great War, this is a fic that sets out to explore an idea: What if First Army developed their own order of Saints, and how this affects the war effort. Part reflection on Religion, War, femininity, and social propaganda movements, part war-story Straight from the early 20th century a la the writings of Will R Bird. All angst. Characters: Nikolai Lantsov, Dominik Vertov, Olga Kylov (oc), Will R Bird, Alina Starkov, and others! Pairings: Nikolai x OC. Rating: Mature CW/TWs: War, mentions of extreme violence, universe typical prejudices, heavy discussions of religion. Later chapters go into period typical sexism of the late Victorian period, and share cases similar to that of the Red Army's female soldiers of ww2.

Chapter List. 1. Over There